Is there a family in your life that is not really family, but feels closer to you than if you were indeed related? A family whose kids you've watched grow up, reach, thrive? A family in which any member would be there for you at 2 in the morning, in an emergency or literally "just because?"
And sorry for leading with so many questions, but doesn't it seem like Hinsdale is filled with such relationships? I know I've been blessed with many friend/families, but I can also look at my network and see that other families share relationships like these, too. Families that vacation together, spend holidays together, attend baseball games, life events or simple barbecues together.
My phone reminds me of these relationships every day, when it pops up reminder photos from years past. I love the summertime ones of my kids being pulled on a big tube in the lake, holding on for dear life, water spraying their faces, huge smiles in place. Many of these photos are with our friend/nephew, at varying ages. I see the passage of time and feel nostalgic, sure, but I also feel so deeply, humbly grateful that those memories exist, and those people are still in my life, making memories for future phone reminders.
I started this column thinking I'd write about weekends on the lake. (And by "the" lake, I mean any of many lakes I've been lucky enough to visit with family friends, some with rented rooms and rented pontoons, some with beautiful lake homes and private boats). I started this summer at a friend's lake house over Memorial Day weekend, playing games, relaxing, laughing, cooking, talking around a fire late into the night.
I ended the summer at another friend's lake house. Boating, relaxing, laughing, cooking, talking around a fire late into the night.
Two different experiences, bookends of summer, but both filled with an inordinate amount of love and generosity. And both with friend/family couples who have seen me, warts and all, through the best and worst of times. They love me, and my children, unfailingly. Enough to include me in their own family celebrations and tuck me into the circle of their late night bonfire bonding.
Words can't express the degree of gratitude I feel for those weekends. How validating and fun they were, how liberating and renewing. As if someone pushed a re-set button on daily life and wiped away the cookies (or cache or whatever it is that muddies up our computers. But I digress ...). Like a big breath of fresh air.
Lake air. Air filled with the sweet smoke of a bonfire, made sweeter by the glass of wine in my hand and the laughter of my best friends by my side. Reminiscing, dreaming, supporting, sometimes even crying. But that lake air, if breathed in the company of friends-who-are-family, is magical indeed.
- Kelly Abate is a contributing columnist. Readers can email her at [email protected].
