Let’s face it, no one is ever too old to gorge themselves on a delicious chocolate Easter egg. I ate mine within a day, (I don’t know if I should class that as an achievement or not), beating my brother in this chocolaty eating contest.
The oldest of four, and the only one living over twenty-five kilometers away, it’s not far; I know, but it feels like another world when everyone has a job to go to, and us kids are reaching that point dreaded by every parent, moving day.
One of my favorite things about my family is the dinner table, (you’re probably giving me a strange look, but hear me out), the table at my parents’ house is more than just a table, it’s a thick mahogany symbol of where something sacred comes together.
Regardless if I had argued with my siblings that day; this is one place anger never resides. Surrounded by unconditional love – and amazing food – that kept the demons away. Unless you put something on the table without a coaster, then the demon disguised as my mother would be breathing fire over your shoulder.
I’m probably more thankful for my family than most, because I’m lucky enough to have all my best friends and family rolled together in one, already with three children of their own, one I went to school with, two more we protected coming up from first grade until we graduated, who are a handful at the best of times, took another child, me, under their wing.
Playing video games with my brother and painting nails with my sisters no one is left out, yes, we sometimes argue, so many larger-than-life personality’s under one roof are bound to clash at some point, however behind the short fall-outs is a frantic, symphony of screaming, chaotic perfection. A loving family who work off each other, even now as I write this all I can hear is laughter, my brother’s comedic ability is among the best.
My parent’s kindness is admired by all but can’t ever be replicated, a positive energy that can heal broken hearts, one of those hearts being mine.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve been the victim of bullying and constant ridicule, if anything that along with the support from my family allowed me to accept who I was and molded me into who I am today.
“We aren’t defined by what happens to us, we are defined by how we deal with it”, one of Mom’s famous quotes, but I’m pretty sure that’s been on every Tumblr feed since 2007.
Every dinner at that table was a step towards healing, and why I love to take every opportunity to drive back home.