3. To My Family
I’ve been wondering how I should write this letter. My family is made up of some vastly different people which makes sense because my mom was married 3 times and therefore we were all raised in different households. So to my family, I’d like to say, I really feel like you’re not family at all. I mean you’re all really nice. I love you a lot but I don’t even know what it means to love a person, so maybe I’m lying. I wouldn’t know if I was though. Most of my siblings are only half and the one full blooded sister I have is set to self-destruct. I have a little half brother that reminds me a lot of myself but he was raised in a similar household: no dad, different mom. Dad you died. You shouldn’t have already died. You were supposed to watch me become a man.
There was a time when I believed, or tried to believe, that we (everyone alive) were all brothers and sisters. We’re not. You can’t fool me with that anymore. But, I love you all just the same. Why shouldn’t I? Everyone I know is a real person but how I understand them is a figment of my imagination. I want to imagine that I love you. So ,when I see you, all I see is what I was hoping to find in you. A little reflection of me. Somewhere, hidden under wires and muscles and calcium beams. I’ll be your mirror too, if you want.
The beautifully bitter pill to swallow is that God is my Father. No, I’m not a messiah that was Jesus’ job. I’m just a man with spirit looking for the love that is true, and it is His. Are you part of my family?
