A Theory of Relativity

I wrote this a few weeks ago at my family reunion. I decided to post it on here. As things stand, I'm planning on having new entries from now on, with perhaps an occasional old entry or something.

I'm sitting here at my family reunion, surrounded by relatives, and a thought comes to my mind. What, exactly, is family? Is it a strictly biological factor, a group comprised of similar pairings of nucleotides, a cosmic accident wherein certain individuals just happen to be born into the same clan? Is it a legal definition, by which the powers that be can more easily classify humanity, packaging people into tidy little groups, then shuttling them off to be dealt with at the beaurocracy's convenience? Is it both?

Is it neither?

As I quietly observe from my bench overlooking a basketball court, I see myriads of interactions taking place. My teenaged cousin Cougar (his parents are unparalleled BYU fans) faces off against Diane, an older cousin, showing off for her, and for whoever else may happen to be watching. (I doubt he even realizes I am even a part of this latter group.). His sister, Melissa, is standing over by the wall, smiling at some off-hand comment her dad just made. Quietly, she sneaks over behind her brother and snatches the ball away. Instantly, she is in an offensive stance, dribbling the ball, searching for some crack in Cougar's defense that she can exploit. (all this while wearing a black, knee-length skirt.) She makes a quick feint, then spins around him and takes off across the court. That's right, she seems to think. Even though you're good, and taller than me now, I'm still your big sister, and I can still take you on.

She doesn't even take a shot. She just passes the ball back to him and returns to her seat on the floor by the wall. She femininely spreads her skirt around her and smiles demurely, her facade replaced, but I've seen her secret. I'm no longer fooled. Besides, it's only a short while before my cousin Don sets a volleyball for her and she's back on her feet for an impromptu bump-set-spike practice session with him.

Across the way is the indoor track, a raised walkway that rings the entire upper level of the rec center. The race for children aged two, three, and four has just begun. The parents all cheer as their children make their ways down the track, some running full-force to be the first to break the victor's tape, others bewilderedly wandering along, absolutely dumbstruck at the commotion. Before the race is even halfway done, one inexplicably bursts into tears.

How many years since I was the one on the track, unsure why I was running, but going as fast as I could because hey, that's what everyone else was doing? One? Two? Twenty?

Sometimes it seems like yesterday.

Sometimes...

Just to my right, a small voice babbling incomprehensibly wakes me from my reverie. Taylor, my younger cousin Andrew's year-old son. Wow. A year old already? Honestly?

He plays happily, completely oblivious to the fact that the people surrounding him are his aunts, uncles, cousins, two, three, four times removed. To him, they're just someone else to smile at, another person whose day he can brighten with a laugh as he toddles over, clutching in is hand a gleaming treasure to bestow, its shining beauty hidden under the guise of a scrap of paper or perhaps a broken piece of plastic.

It amazes me as I look at the various relationships, all the cousins, and mothers, and brothers, and aunts, and greats, and thirds, and fifths, and once removeds, and family.

A quick aside: And, of course, the meddlers. Those relatives with whom I haven't spoken since the last reunion and know very little more about me other than the fact that I play the piano and... well honestly, very little more than the fact that I play the piano. And, with no malice whatsoever in their hearts, they come sit by me to talk, then ever so casually mention that they know a girl, and she's cute, and she's just about your age, and hey, I've got an idea! She lives close to you, why don't you just...

Did that just happen? Perhaps. *sigh* Bless their well-meaning hearts.

But back to family. I'm surrounded by so many people, and I'm tied to each of them in some way. Some of us share common blood ancestors. Some are related by marriage. Some are adopted, though I defy anyone to guess which, they're so much a part of us all. But no matter how they link themselves to me and to each other, they all fall under that wonderful umbrella word: family.

What exactly is family? In the end, I suppose it's all relative.