On Wednesday of last week, I had my official birthday dinner (this is the dinner with friends, not my family dinner. That blessed event is not even worth writing about).
We went to an amazing Chinese restaurant and sat at a huge round table. It was neat to look around at the collection of people that were there. People that I brought together. My best friend's boyfriend was gossiping with my school mom who had never met before. My school best friend was whispering to my life best friend.
I looked around and thought to myself, this is my family. This weird group of people who are definitely not perfect but perfect enough for me. These people are the ones that I call on in times of catastrophe, that celebrate every single event in my life with me.
This may not be what a text book or a church or a dictionary calls a family, but it's what a family means to me.