Family is a wonderful thing. No matter how strong the winds
of life toss you about, they provide a safe haven and a reassurance that things
are going to be okay.
As we get older, we find that families come in all sorts of guises. Of course, there are our biological families. A sure sign of growing up is the point where
we stop wishing that we found out we were adopted and come to accept the quirks
and foibles that make up our own families. Allied with this is the family one
gains when in a relationship. It’s a lovely thing to have a whole ‘new’ group
of people to develop relationships with. To find out their hope, dreams and
fears.
Historically, LGBT folk will often count their gay family as
a separate entity in itself. This was often borne of a need/desire to stick together
in the face of community or family-imposed isolation. I don’t see my own gay
family nearly as much as I’d like. When I returned from Ghana in 2004, they
were the ones that stopped me from going totally insane and I own them much.
Of course, mention must be made of our sports family
.Participation in sports, especially team sports such as rowing, will mean that
you spend an inordinate amount of time with your fellow teammates. The trial
and tribulations of life will be spayed out for all to see and you juggle
intense training, work, and home life – never an easy task. Your team mates
will no doubt see you at your best and possibly worst in the course of time.
There are often very few secrets that kept from those around you.
The reason for this post is I’ve had a bit of a shock
family-wise. The Hawkins family has dwindled somewhat in recent years. At my
mother’s wedding a few years ago, a comment was made that I was the last
Hawkins. I must admit it left me feeling a bit glum. Well, through the magic of
Facebook, I’ve found myself connected with members of my wider family of
cousins-through-grandparents and other relations. Last week we (Steve, myself,
my mum and her husband) found ourselves just north of London at a family party.
I’d been incredibly nervous about going and had been thinking about it for
weeks. Most of the people there I hadn’t seen for over 20 years when I was a
child.
It was one of the most wonderful evenings of my life. From
the moment I arrived (slightly trembling) I just felt engulfed in a sense of
belonging. Even if you’ve never met me in real life, I’m sure you’ve picked up
in this blog that I’ve always considered myself a bit of an outsider. Well
imagine what it’s like for an outsider to walk into a room of friendly faces,
all saying “you’re one of us”. It was a pleasure to talk to everyone. I was
able to share old family photos from my phone and Picasa. I was able to talk
about relatives and everyone knew who I meant. I found out lots of information
about my direct relatives I never knew.
I also got to meet a relative, Mick, who I’d heard so much
about over the years but had never met. It was as magical as I thought it would
be. I could talk to him for hours, days even and I hope we get to meet again
soon. But the same is true of everyone there. We felt a bit isolated from the
family up in Liverpool, but I hope we can now take the steps to stay connected
with everyone.
So in the space of a few hours, I went from having a
biological family that was tiny to one that is massive. We may not have the
same surnames, but we’re all Hawkins. I’m so proud of that, I’ve walked a
little taller since last Saturday.
Family is important, whatever form it takes. Look after
yours.
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