Something has come more and more clear to me as time moves on. It started long before Ian, but has been quickly made more clear. When it comes to family, blood doesn’t matter. What makes someone family is that they have your back. That you have theirs. Ian was my family. I was his. I am lucky that I have several family members around. So was Ian.
Unfortunately, having family – real family – doesn’t mean you don’t feel alone. It doesn’t mean he didn’t have unbearable pain.
I was at a wedding tonight. It was really nice. The couple is perfect for each other, and they are both amazing people. I consider them family. That’s why I didn’t post earlier.
I’m home now – fairly early for a reception night – cuddling my cat, and pondering life and everything that comes with it.
I’m feeling lucky that I have family and cat.
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