Change is stealing away the last of this so sweet summer.
And I really wish that I could find the words to say everything I want to say now, but I don’t know that I can. I’ve started this essay a hundred times in my head in the past week … the week since our best friend, our brother moved across the state line and into a whole new world.
I am grateful tonight for the family I married into, the family that sucked me up and took me as their own … the word “in-law” doesn’t fit. We’ve blurred that line, as my frequent foot-in-mouth and frustrated self could tell you. But I’m a lucky girl, to have joined a family that accepts me as their own – flaws and fears and failures and all. And to have a sister-friend like the one I have, and to have the brothers I’ve always wanted … it’s a gift. And oh, we fight like the best of families. And we have fun like the best of families. But is there a better, stronger, more true word than that?
It’s a name for us, our little nuclear unit of me and Price and sweet little Puff. It’s a name for the broader clans, the ones that birthed us and carry us and love us and will always be there. And it’s a name for the family we’ve created in Nashville over the past 5 years. The family that fights and follows and cries and laughs and sings and plans and dreams together.
The family that gathered, with tears in our eyes and laughter on our lips and gratefulness in our hearts, to send off a best friend and a brother with feast and song and prayer.
Best wishes and all the love my little heart can hold to the ones who have gone already, are going soon, are staying, and are still trying to figure it out. The Village will always be. It’s not going away anytime soon.