I rarely thank my family or give thanks for my family. I tend to take them for granted and never realize the blessing I have in front of me. I have such an amazing family and one of the best childhoods.
Growing up I did not face any family problems. Not saying we were perfect, but we functioned well. I knew both my mother and father well. My mother would be with us all the time, and I thought I knew her best but my father would love seeing us enjoying the things he enjoyed, like we were walking in his footsteps. My family is not very typical. We were not boring. Family was something we enjoyed and knew it was a necessity.
I count my blessings because I know my parents were not as fortunate as I was. My mother grew up in a Hispanic family in New Mexico. Her mother was harsh and her father was a gambler. In her college years she had to drop out take care of her sickly mother after her father left. She lived out her life not continuing college because she had to help take care of her family.
Just a few years passed, her mother passed away from sickness and her father decided to return back into her family’s life. My aunt, who had taken care of my grandmother in her dying years, took on the job of taking care of my grandfather.
I commend my aunt for the patience of taking on the burden of her family like my mother had in her younger years. She lived through my grandmother’s “Law and Order” marathons and her constant grumpiness. Now, she takes care of her father who betrayed their family.
My mother’s brother has had his share of hard times. He was legally pronounced dead before actually awakening. My mother is in constant panic of his health and his state of depression. She cries from him frequently and for God to bring protection and salvation to his life.
My father was raised in the deep south. His mother gave birth to my uncle Paul at age sixteen and had my father a few years shortly after. My grandfather was an alcoholic, abusive, and my father never really had a relationship with him. As I have come to find out over the years, my father barely knew him at all. He remains a constant ambiguous character in my family that none of us will seem to ever understand.
My father later married his high school sweetheart and gave birth to my half sister, Kristen. The relationship did not work out the way they planned and it all ended a few years later. During this time my grandfather died from being an alcoholic and the uncovered mysteries of my grandfather seemed to pile up to never be solved.
Somewhere in all of this my mother and father met. I am not sure how everything happened, but I just thank God that he orchestrated the two together. My sister was conceived three months before their wedding and from there began the first of three girls born into the Blakely family.
Hearing everything my parents have been through and the hurt they have suffered, I cannot thank God more for giving me truly the best family. There have been fights that have been crippling and have scared me, but I know my family will always stay together and fight through every challenge together.