It's no secret that I love my family. My husband teases me that I love my family of origin even more than I love him. He knows how I really feel, he is the other half of my heart. He is my home, my life. My family of origin, my parents and brother and sisters? I love them, too. They make up a huge part of my life, my heart, my prayers. I would absolutely do anything in my power for any of them. And they would for me. They have. They have taken care of my children when one was sick, helped us move, and all the little things that come with being family, too.
My sister and I often butt heads. I don't know if that is because we are too alike, or too different. I suspect it is because we are often alike. We butt heads. We irritate each other. But, no matter what happens, not matter how irritated or angry we might get, we always make an effort to put it all back together. We make sure we smooth things over. We never, ever let it go on long. Why do we make this effort? Because we are sisters. We are a family. I don't care what happens, she will always be my sister.
I recognize that we were blessed to be a rather verbal family, and as such were probably given some skills to work things out. My dad taught us how to be diplomatic, reasonable, yet passionate. My mom always said to treasure your sisters and brother. She taught us to stick up for each other, no matter what. Sometimes that means even to yourself.
Family means putting yourself, your wants, issues and needs aside for the good of others. Family means making that extra effort, no matter what wrong has been done. Family is more important than slights, insulted egos, and even, broken hearts. Sometimes, family will be all you have in the world. Hang on to it. Cherish it. Make them more important than yourself.