Being the village

Since the death of my grandma I've really started seeing who my real family is. My parents and sister have finally openly showed who they really are, and that they want nothing to do with the rest of their kids. No involvement in the funeral, no chance to go to grandma's house and pick out sentimental stuff to remember her by. The funeral itself is perhaps a very long story for a different day, it was in no way honourable towards her, and an obvious narcissistic performance from my parents. Especially because they chose to bury her on the day of Christmas Eve.

And honestly? I'm pissed, and sad, but also relieved. I feel like I've finally had the realisation that these people are not my family. And that my friends, my housemate, my other sister and brother and their kids etc. are my real family. They're my village. They're the people I can rely on when I'm in trouble, who want to spend time with me and like me for who I am, without anything being transactional. 

Yesterday's Christmas Eve was the best one I've ever had. It was at my sister's house with just her husband, kids and 2 family friends. It was planned pretty last minute because our parents decided to cancel the family Christmas in favour of sitting alone and eating take-out, but it was so nice to just chill and eat good food with each other. 

The people I have around me now are the kind of people who do stuff for each other without expecting anything in return, and it goes from a stupid thing like sharing cigarettes to babysitting to give parents a break or coming over with a hot meal to share. I've never felt so loved before