An essay about Family

Between visiting with the grandbabies and their parents, plus the remodeling which has continued even with visitors here, I can barely rub two thoughts together to light a brain spark!

Since it might be a few days before I can write anything more than a couple of sentences, I decided to allow Shelby to be my "guest blogger" for tonight. This is an essay she wrote for school last year. I think it fits the present very well, because it is about family, specifically about our own little special bunch.

The title is "Puzzle Pieces."

So now I turn this post over to Miss Shelby!

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I believe that family is a single piece that holds the puzzle of life together.

First off, I must point out that I also believe what constitutes a family member is more than being a blood relative. For example, my mom’s best friend is known by me and my siblings as “Aunt Kathy”, although we aren’t even related. This fact must be remembered as I continue.

I first became aware that family is everything when I was about eight years old with a specific trip to the emergency room. My dad had had health problems for most of my life, and had been in and out of the hospital as far back as I could remember. This particular visit was a little more serious than the others, because we honestly thought he was going to die. My mom’s first instinct upon arriving at the hospital was to call all of our family and tell them to prepare for the worst. Not only did they prepare, they rushed to the hospital to comfort my mom and look over my four year old brother and I. This unselfish show of compassion showed me the basic idea of what being part of a family truly means.

Thankfully, my dad pulled out just fine, and it was a few more years before we had to make another hospital visit. Through the good years, we shared holidays, birthdays, and just general family time with all of our extended family. I must also add that between my mom and dad, there are six children, eight grandchildren, three pairs of aunts and uncles, ten cousins, and three grandparents. This amount of family only added to the festivities, and my childhood was full of excitement and bonding.

Those years will always be in my memory, but there was one specific year of my life that I will never forget. My dad had had four consecutive years of no complications or hospital trips, but all good things have an end. When I was in the fifth grade, over Thanksgiving break we once again made the trek out to Edmond Hospital. My dad was admitted for the normal complications of his paraplegia, and we assumed that he would be sent home within the week as usual. But without warning, he started to become weaker and sicker. I could tell, even at the age of ten that my mom was not coping well. I suggested to her to call the family as I had seen her do so many times before. She did, and they came as they always had in the past.

The next several months were full of late nights at the hospital, sleeping at random family member’s houses, and difficulty all around. No matter how hard things got and how much we all just wanted to give up, family is what made us push on until the end of February. My dad passed away just after my eleventh birthday, and I know for a fact that if it wasn’t for our tight knit group, I wouldn’t even have those final memories of my dad.

The strength and bonding of my family continues today through old traditions, memories of my dad, and the addition of new family members. Every new person and tradition adds another piece to the puzzle of my life.




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P.S. If this is your first visit to my little corner of the internet, please feel welcome to see what our family is up to today: Click here.

Or if you would like to start at the beginning, here is where it all began.

You are welcome any time! :-)