Family. Phew, trying to start a discussion about this feels like I just opened a large can of worms.
Everyone has their own family “stuff”. Even the best of families have moments of frustration with each other. But family is family … right? They will always be there for you, and you them - even if some times it doesn’t feel like that’s the case.
I think now is a good time to say that I am using a much more broad definition of family than most might think of right away. By family, I mean those people - blood relatives, friends, whoever - that you feel closest to. The people you love and trust and respect and want to be around. The people that when the chips are down you call for help. It’s more about what you consider being family than what you’re told is family.
So this family that we have, that we choose to have, are the ones we reach out to. Some times its for advice and some times its for money and some times its for a shoulder to cry on. These people are like anchors for us in life. They help ground us firmly. But they are also like kite strings (allow us to soar, but with a tether in case of inclement weather), or maybe they’re like a warm blanket. (I was going to say they’re like a warm chocolate chip cookie, but I worried that some people might not like chocolate - which I struggle to understand.)
And yes, I know that I am mixing metaphors (and similes). No apologies.
In this play, Waverly is worried about family, and talks to family, and spends time with family, and meets “new” family(?). And in the end, we can be pretty sure that her different family bonds have gotten stronger (or will). The momentous event that rocked the country also rocked her and her family in large and small ways. And it is these family ties that help her the most through the ordeal.
That’s the thing with families, right? No matter what the circumstances, they’re there. And yes, we may not always like our family members, but we do love them.
Is your family structure a nuclear one only? Or perhaps you’ve only got a family of chosen loved ones. Or a mix of it all? Whatever the case, you reach out to them and they reach out to you. Sometimes its for big things - grand events or life effecting problems. Sometimes its for the seemingly innocuous - like when my brother calls me while he’s out running to take his mind off the grueling miles he’s logging. Whatever the case may be, it’s less about the content and more about the act. The reaching out.
So, in those times of trouble or joy, who do you talk to and why? What drives your choice to reach out to those people?