Another Pesonal Piece

I’ve just read a wonderfully mellow piece from a friend’s blog. Beinng the narcist person that I am, it had got me thinking about my own little family, (err not so little anymore, with the additional little peeps). I lost my dad when I was real young, too young to understand any of it in fact. At that time there was only me, my mum, and my brother. Two year pass or so my mum got married again. The person she marry was in fact her brother in law, my uncle. A year before she lost my dad, she lost his sister to Leukimia leaving behind her husband and three children. In many more ways it was a merge of two not intact families, than a romantic wedding (or at least that’s what we dechiper). I must say it was probably the most noble action I’ve encountered. And rest assure they will be loved by all parties involved for their noble gesture.
The pain that my mum experience, losing her husband just after 3 years of marriage, was unimaginable for me. The worry that she felt having two little children beaming happily not realising that they were a step away from being orphan was equally beyond my comprehension. Parallely the pain that my father experience when he lost his wife during the heights of his career, leaving two teenage girls and a young boy was also beyond me.
The family that I have now, is not the typical happy family. Parents madly in love with each other, kids sick with their parents lovesick behaviour but stragely envy them, an ageing dog sleeping soundly on the porch. No siree, my family is far from it. My family is, I suppose like a shirt, where several pieces got stitched to form a shirt. A stitched family, the only family I ever want.