Family

The idea of growing up used to scare me a lot. I had this image where no longer could you have fun (except for boring dinner parties and drinking) and, in a way, you would be this totally different person, one that was more serious and less spontaneous. Although I’m realizing that really isn’t true, I’m learning that growing up brings about many other changes that I don’t think I’m ready for.

This year is really the first year I feel detached from my family. Not only am I growing up, but so is everyone else too. My sister graduated college and is married. My brother is in his second year of college and has a life of his own that I really know nothing about. My youngest brother is finishing high school and soon will be leaving home as well. Even my mom, although not in her control, isn’t at home. It’s not just me that leaving them behind, but they are leaving me behind too. I haven’t been home for longer than 2 days since last Christmas, and I admit, that is my choice, but I’m starting to sense that I really am on my own now. I am growing up.

Being far from them is hard when I’m reminded (which happens almost everyday) that people don’t know me very well. My family, they know me. And they get me. No one else in the world can interact with me the way they do. And it might just be that I have had my whole life to reach this point, and its unrealistic to expect that from others. But daily I’m reminded how different we are from most everyone else. I won’t go into listing things, but normally it’s the very small things or the way of thinking about things that makes me really miss how it used to be. I find myself being jealous of those who can go home, and hang out with their entire family, practically anytime they want. I find myself wishing I could do that too.

I’m no longer afraid to grow up, but I am worried I’m losing my family. It will probably never be like it once was. If I was fully aware of what I had at the time, maybe I wouldn’t have been so quick to move on.