Friends not Family

Well, here I am again.  I just spent the last hour in a bath reading and realizing that for not really doing anything today, a lot happened.

I went to visit my grandmother, which, in and of itself is a chore.  Insanely long back-story that I would be glad to share if anyone ever reads this and is interested, but for now, let's just say that my family isn't exactly close.  So anyhow...I've been pushing this visit off for a while now and finally just went over there.  I wasn't there for very long - maybe two or three hours - but in that time my grandmother said something that really made me think.

While I was there, my aunt came over to visit for a few minutes before she had to go to work, and to drop off her son (my little cousin).  My little cousin said the pre-lunch prayer and in it he thanked God for having a friend over to visit.  I didn't think anything of it, my cousin knows that I am his cousin and I was flattered to think that he sees me as a friend.  My grandmother; however, clearly does not agree with that sentiment.  She said to him "Kate's not your friend, she's your family".

I was glad that I was walking to get more water out of the refrigerator when she said that; I couldn't help the grief-stricken look on my face when I heard those words.  I've known since I was young (probably too young) that my family has its problems and the members of it, their disagreements.  But that statement today was a testament to how my family works.  To many people, the word 'family' means more than the word 'friend' and I'm sure often 'family' means 'friend' plus much more.  It was made clear to me today that in my family, the word 'family' does not include friendship.  No, this is not news to me, but when it is made so abundantly clear over and over again and I am reminded of this fact, it is depressing.  My cousin is not even 9 yet and this is the kind of thing he hears.  I fear for how he will respond.

I was relieved to spend a few moments with my cousin doing what he loves, playing the Wii, before I mercifully was able to return home.  I get to my house only to have fifteen minutes of quiet before my delinquent 14 year old brother comes home from school with his friend.  The first thing they do is go out on our porch and have a cigarette.  After my parents get home I am bombarded with the list of things that he has done wrong in school.  It was not directly given to me, I overheard the yelling and arguing happening between my parents and my little brother.  I want to say I don't care, and maybe, to an extent it is true.  I don't care if he gets bad grades because I have tried to help and he won't take it.  I don't care if he thinks I'm a horrible big sister because I know that the sibling he idolizes (my step brother) is a horrible person and an even worse influence.

It takes all I have to relax and think about the fact that I should be financially able to move out soon and that all of this will be behind me.