reality vs. illusion

This weekend, my roommate's family was in town to celebrate her sister's graduation. By family I mean, parents, grandparents, and siblings. Did I mention that they were all in the house at one time? I was drugged up the entire weekend. I don't mean "smack" or "mary jane" or any other slang for illegal substances. I mean the intoxication of family. For me, getting to eavesdrop on another family makes me high....in a "manic" sort of way, with no lithium to sort it out.

Saturday, however, I broke away from this experience to travel to my own hometown to visit my mom and my grandparents. Sometimes, when I come home I feel like a stranger. I truly am a stranger. I don't know them, and they don't really know me. This is the reality. I love them dearly, and am proud to have been born in such a hard-working family. In truth, there's so much about my family I don't know. There's so much that is a mystery. It eludes me how to get that back, how to bridge the distance of not knowing to knowing.

Now, my roomate's family is leaving, and I think my hangover is starting. But, just like a recent Grey's Anatomy episode I watched, I must choose to live in the reality of the situation, and not fantasize about this family, one that I don't even know better than my own.

The reality is that I think the grass is greener. But, I know deep down that it's not.

My family, for all its differences and mishaps and misgivings, is a pretty solid group of people...I have learned great things from them, even if it's been from mistakes. They've stood by me during my crazy "holy-roller" days, and even thus far, with my divorce. They don't give up on me.

I am not giving up the hope of knowing them...my family, that is.