Stan and I live a little over an hour from my parent’s house. Which means my family knows Stan so well that my little sister insists she has 5 brothers (not 4, which she does by blood), and my parents have no problem assigning Stan to handyman chores around their house.
But this month we booked cheap Southwest tickets to Indianapolis and got our Q.T. with the Murzyns. Basically, I’m super lucky. I have wonderful in-laws who are a joy to be around, who make me laugh, feed me well (a little too well, says-me-jeans), and make me feel like one of their own.
Over the weekend, we visited Stan’s grandmother, Helen, WHO I LOVE. She is full of stories and even more full of light that she carries with her wherever she goes. I always loved her, but amid the old photographs, learning relatives names, and very early dinners (early like 5:30), I came to love her even more. By the time we left, I was calling her Grandma with the same ease that my husband does.
They say you can choose your friends, but not your family. Though this may be true, you still have to decide how you’re going to choose to love them. Will you invest in them? How much? Will you spend your money on flights to see them, your time on calls to say hello, and your conversations with your husband just learning more about the family you’ve inherited?
I hardly considered these questions at the beginning of my “love story,” but now that his family is mine, I am overwhelmed and honored with this opportunity to know and love the people who gave the world the man I love.