The Complexion of a Family

By

Patrice Tomasetti Newman

The cacophony of different voices ranging from 4 years old through 11 years old is drifting up to my sitting room. I smile. I hear laughter, shouts, and an occasional whine as my four grandchildren are playing whatever their imaginary game is at the moment. Their voices are a hodgepodge that reflects what our family is all about.

They bring to mind a recent conversation that I had with my second oldest granddaughter, who is 9 years old. She is the one that is reflective. She is the one that expresses how she feels about different topics that impact their lives. She seems to hash over in her own mind something that has been said or something that she has seen before she brings them up for discussion.

Recently, she asks, “Is it true that I have no sisters or brother?” I respond with, “Why would you ask that?” “Well, we have different fathers. So, we don’t have the same blood”, she replies. “Can you elaborate more?” I query. She proceeds to say that a ‘friend’ has brought this to her attention. According to her ‘friend’, if you don’t share the same exact bloodline, you are not family. My next question is, “Is sharing blood the only thing that makes one a family?” She thinks that over but seems unsure with this new information her ‘friend’ has given her.

I ask her about her daddy (not her biological father). She gives me true answers to the questions: He was adopted from Korea as a baby. No, he doesn’t have our blood. No, he doesn’t look like any of us. Yes, he is our son even though we don’t share the ‘blood connection’. So, I inquire, “Aren’t he, your grandpa and I a family?” She doesn’t even think about it for a minute before she responds, “Yes!”

We then talk about the first time I met her and her sister. They were going on 3 and 5 years old respectively. We speak not only about how we met but about how our families merged together when her daddy and mommy decided to be together. We talk about how from that moment on she and her sister became our granddaughters. “Do we share the same blood”, I probe. Again, her response is a quick, “No!” “Do you see us as your grandparents?” I ask. “Yes”, she replies. My next question, “Why?” gives her some pause.

Her answer reflects her feelings and thoughts on the topic. She states that like her daddy and mommy, we are always there for her; that we always care enough to teach her what is right and wrong; that we are always involved in her successes wherever she experiences them; that we are always there when she is not successful to make her understand that giving something a try is what is important so that she keeps learning new things; that we take her places and like to spend time with her. Most of all, she says, we always “have her back” and she feels loved.

“Well”, I ask, “What about your sisters and brother? How is your life experience the same or different with them?” She laughs. “Well, we go to school together. We play together. Sometimes, we argue over toys, the T.V., or the rules of a game. But I know that deep down inside they love me and I love them!” “Isn’t that what is most important? Isn’t that what family is all about?” I question. She thinks about it for a minute, smiles, and gives a resounding, “Yes it is!” Following a quick kiss, she is off to play with her sisters and brother. Her voice is added again to the racket created by my four grandchildren’s laughs, shouts, and yes, the occasional whines. And how I love those sounds! I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.

I am sure that this topic will resurface again whether by her or one of her siblings. I will be prepared to help them think it through; to help them understand that the complexion of a family varies; to help them realize that the importance is in the bonds we form and the love we share. That is what makes a family!