Family (and everything that comes with it)
Voices collaborate into a symphony of whirling and twirling chatter. There have been hardships, there is love, there is brokenness and mending. There are present and missing, loud and quiet, young and old. Some conversations begin where they left off a year ago, sometimes longer. Arms wrap around the one they want to live closer to. There are stories; known and unknown. It's a sloppy painting. A graceful dance. A song that you can't get out of your head. It's an aging wine. It's the character of an old building. My family might sound like yours. There is laughter and tears. Moments that are perfect. Moments that are everything but perfect. If you could pick and choose, it wouldn't be family. If you could take some and leave the rest, it would't be family.
I love where I come from and what I'm a part of.
I love the loud and the quiet. The young and the old.
And I love wrapping my arms around the one I wished I lived closer to.