Topic #68- Family

Before I start, I’m aware that most of my posts have been centered around my family, but right now in life, that’s what seems to take up the majority of my thoughts and feelings, so expressing that here has been so freeing. 

Today is my brother’s birthday, so this topic only felt fitting. 

Family– defined as “a group consisting of parents and children living together in a household.”

That definition in my opinion is trash. I understand what it’s conveying, but those aspects don’t define what a family is. I have a lot of people I would call family and I’m so grateful, but that also doesn’t mean that some weeks the pain of not having a real “family” anymore doesn’t completely suffocate me in it’s clutches. That pain isn’t something I think I’ll ever fully get past. 

I won’t share the gruesome story that went down, but if you’ve read any of my last posts, you know there’s been a lot of hurt, but also a lot of yearning to hold onto any shred of family that’s been left in these small hands. This week in particular has me drowning in my own tears and the sorrows that surround what’s left of the Courtney family. I haven’t spent Christmas with my whole family since I was 13. My siblings haven’t all spoken on good terms in years. We haven’t had a family picture in 8 years. 

Do you ever experience the kind of sadness that physically makes your heart hurt? It stings and feels like a few breaths have been taken from your lungs in a second. It feels like not much in this world could hurt more. That’s what I’ve been feeling all week. I’ve cried in my car almost every day. Like really. Ugly. cried.  I’ve had to leave my desk multiple times just today to wipe my eyes. I’ve let myself though… I’ve let myself feel this pain and embrace it, maybe I’m hoping if it comes in one big wave and I let it hurt, it’ll eventually fade? This’ll be the last breakdown? The last feeling of heartbreak?

Can’t be. 

The lyrics from “In the blood” by John Mayer, sum up a lot for me. 

“How much of my mother has my mother left in me?

How much of my love will be insane to some degree?

And what about this feeling that I’m never good enough?

Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

How much of my father am I destined to become?

Will I dim the lights inside me just to satisfy someone?

How much like my brothers, do my brothers wanna be?

Does a broken home become another broken family?

Or will we be there for each other, like nobody ever could?

Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?”

“Does a broken home become another broken family? Or will we be there for each other like nobody ever could?” Those words in particular get to me. The “we” in that line reminds me of my siblings, but it doesn’t seem like that will be our reality. Some of us are close, but it doesn’t look like all of us will ever be in a room together on good terms again and I wish so much that I could change that. That I could fix everything. But I can’t. And that’s okay?? No. It’s not, but it has to be. I have to be.

I know this is the life God gave me, I’m thankful for it, I really am. I’ve grown and learned so much, and I know I’m growing into the believer that Jesus wants me to be, but, this process, this growing and *letting go* hurts. Those words– letting go. Those words themselves hurt. I don’t like letting go of things. Getting over and moving on has always been a difficult idea for me. But isn’t that the thing about life? It’s not meant to be easy… 

So, in honor of my big brothers golden birthday today that he’s celebrating in North Carolina, here’s a picture of him and I. A picture of when life was a little less big and these ideas of letting go weren’t as heartbreaking. 

-Morgan