Sometimes, life circumstances mean you don't live near your actual family. In our case, this is true because Jeff was willing to support me in our move to northern Virginia 8 years ago(!) when a phenomenal opportunity opened up at the school where I now work. It isn't easy to be away from your family for many reasons, but perhaps we feel it most strongly in those moments where we look at Lily and know how much she'd love to see her grandparents every week, how she'd adore the opportunity to help her aunt and uncle feed their ducks on Saturday mornings or go to dog shows on summer weekends with her grandma. Those are just the moments when you miss your family, though.
When family is acutely needed is in a moment of crisis. The moment when you just need someone to pick up your daughter from school but you're both stuck at work, the moment when you both get a virulent stomach bug on New Year's Day and need someone to run out for Gatorade and Saltines, the moment when life socks you in the gut and it's all you can do to stay standing.
One of those moments happened for our best friends--two of Lily's godparents--last week. There was an acute crisis that was unavoidable and deeply sorrowful, and we just wanted to stop their hurting for a moment. So, we did the only thing we could think of to help--we took over their kids (and dog) for a couple of days so that they were free to travel to their family and be with them. And because they are our chosen family, it was a piece of cake: the kids know our house as well as they know their own, Lily was in heaven with plenty of attention, and Jeff got to be one of the neighborhood guys with a dog for a bit.
Because of all that--because it truly was no big deal to pitch in and help--it was shocking to come home Friday evening to the gorgeous bouquet of lilies pictured at the top of this post. Our friends had left them on our dining room table while we were out running errands, and I wish I had a picture of Lily's astonished face when she discovered them, then spent several minutes just gazing, whispering over and over, "I just love them." We didn't need anything in return for helping out--we just did what family would do in that moment. And then they did what the best kind of family also sometimes does--they said "thank you" in the most beautiful way imaginable.
And so we arrive at last night. A good friend in the neighborhood (the mom of one of Lily's besties) texted while we were out running errands to ask if Lily was still up for playing with her daughter while we sipped some wine and caught up. Of course we were! And so they arrived a half hour later.
And so our unexpected-but-perfectly-average neighborhood night began.
Over the course of the next hour, each swish of our front door opening brought more neighborhood friends into our dining room, each one bearing some beverage and much good cheer. (My favorite entrance arrived with a bottle of wine and a glass raised in each hand, singing out the infamous line, "It's all happening!") In spite of the rainy night, the fact that none of us had seen each other in over a week meant we were happy to crowd around our dining room table, munching on whatever snacks Jeff and I could find in the cupboard, catching up and eventually engaging in an hours-long game of Cards Against Humanity. (Don't worry, Lily and her friend were happily snuggled in sleeping bags upstairs before the jocularity really reached a fever pitch!)
The reason for the perfect end to our week was quite simple: though we live far from our family, we have chosen a family who lives in walking distance from our front door. There are no pretenses nor expectations, no need to blow dry your hair nor to touch up your make-up. We love each other because of who we are--because of who our families are--and that is enough.
Thanks, Friday Night Family. You rock our world.
