My tribe is a modern family united by love, blood and deep affection. As children of divorce they have endured the hard parts and embraced the extended family that is forged by remarriages and new siblings. In this photo are (technically)full siblings and half siblings and siblings of some and not others. But that isn’t how they choose to define it. They define it as family. Plain and simple. And I’m so blessed to be one of the matriarchs of this clan of lovely, funny and gracious people who like to dance.
There are blue, brown, green, and hazel eyes. There are brunettes, blondes and redheads. The bald guy is by choice. They have mesquito bites, scars and tattoos. They are genetically modified to require fans when they sleep—all year round.
We are only missing the gypsy child.
Two patient spouses with hearts of gold who accept this motley crew. Five of the most beautiful, and kind grandchildren—with one trash talker, and many dogs. There are more grandparents than a retirement home.
Last night at 9:47 pm we all held hands around the kitchen island and belted out our anthem in honor of my granddaughter turning precisely 8 years old. We go through. United by love and blood, hardships and blessings. Mostly blessings, we go through as family.