For Years, My Parents Made Excuses For Excluding Me From Family Trips..

Complicity and Silence

Three days before Christmas my phone vibrates with a text from Sophia. I stare at her name on the screen for a minute before opening it.

She apologizes for her silence throughout the years. She adds that she always thought the exclusion was wrong but didn’t want to upset Ryan’s family.

She admits she should have spoken up and regrets her silence. I read the message three times to see how I felt about it.

Part of me wants to be upset but mostly I am exhausted. I texted back that while I appreciated her apology her silence made her complicit.

I warn her that watching something go wrong and doing nothing is still an option. She responds soon away saying she accepts it and understands if I do not want to be in a relationship with her.

She just wanted me to know that she sees the truth now. I put down my phone and do not react again.

It’s something I suppose but it doesn’t erase 10 years of silence. Deborah’s house is filled with the aroma of sugar and cinnamon on Christmas Eve.

Lily dragged me into the kitchen where cookie dough was already spread on the counter. We spent the afternoon cutting shapes and decorating them with colored frosting.

David starts a fire in the living room and the entire home feels warmer. Deborah tells me her mother’s recipe for cinnamon rolls which we will bake in the morning.

She shows me how to roll the dough properly and tells me stories of making these with her mother when she was younger. We watch classic Christmas movies and Lily insists on making hot chocolate from scratch with real cocoa powder.

She carefully stirs the soup while Deborah looks on. David gathers additional wood for the fire and settles into his chair with a book.

I curl up on the couch with a blanket and Lily snuggles next to me. The TV is showing an old movie about a youngster who wants a BB gun but I’m hardly paying attention.

I’m just enjoying the feeling of being precisely where I’m intended to be. Around 10:00 Lily begins yawning and Deborah sends her up to wash her teeth.

I assist clean up the kitchen and Deborah hugs me tightly before I go upstairs. I sleep in the guest room which Deborah now refers to as my room.

She has hung photos on the walls including a few from our trip to Turks and Caos. One photo shows the four of us on the beach at sunset while another shows Lily and me snorkeling.

My favorite is a candid photo of Deborah and me smiling during dinner. I change into my pajamas and climb into bed.

The linens smell like lavender and the room is peaceful safe for the house shifting. I fall asleep feeling extremely relaxed.

A Morning of Belonging

At 6:00 on Christmas morning Lily runs into my room and jumps on the bed. She’s wearing reindeer pajamas and her hair is sticking up everywhere.

I accompany her downstairs where David has already brewed coffee and Deborah is removing the cinnamon rolls from the oven. The fragrance is wonderful.

We have breakfast first despite Lily’s constant gaze at the presents under the tree. Deborah prepares scrambled eggs as David slices up fruit.

Finally we head into the living room and begin opening gifts. We proceed carefully taking rounds and watching each individual unwrap their present.

Lily is the first to open the art kit and screams with enthusiasm. She instantly wants to start drawing but Deborah has to urge her to complete unwrapping everything else first.

Deborah bursts into tears as she examines the photo album I produced on our vacation. She flips over each page looking at the photographs and reading the short remarks I left.

David too becomes emotional while glancing over her shoulder. Lily adors the bracelet and puts it on immediately away holding up her wrist to show everyone.

I open gifts from them including Deborah’s warm sweater and Lily’s new pocketbook which she chose herself. Then David gives me a long thin packet.

I carefully unwrap it revealing a fishing rod with my name inscribed on the handle. David says he expects me to use it frequently.

The gesture hits me deeply since it is more than just a gift. It’s a commitment that I’ll be present that I’ll be a part of their daily lives.

I hug him and feel tears well up but I don’t care. This is my family and I am finally home.

Virginia arrives about noon accompanied by Nathaniel and their children and bearing meal dishes. She hugs me tightly.

“I’m glad I’m here where I belong.” She whispers.

The home quickly fills up as people arrange dishes and cutlery on the large dining table. Virginia delivers a large pan of green bean casserole and Nathaniel brings in a turkey he smoked himself.

Their children run around with Lily showing them all her new gifts. Deborah assigns everyone chores and the kitchen transforms into an ordered mess of people heating dishes and stirring pots.

I assist Virginia in setting the table and she expresses her admiration for my decision to be self-sufficient. Nathaniel carves the turkey while David serves drinks for everyone.

We all assemble around the table which is filled with individuals who want to be here together. No one is missing.

Nobody got left behind or neglected. Everyone contributed something and everyone matters.

Deborah quickly expresses gratitude for the food and the individuals around the table. Then we start passing the dishes.

People laugh and tell stories so the discussion flows easily. Lily sits next to me and keeps putting food on my plate saying I should taste everything.

Looking around at all these faces I realize this is how family dinners should be. My phone rests in my pocket utterly silent.

I checked it once throughout dessert but there was nothing. There have been no texts from my mother or father.

Emily and Ryan did not call not even a generic Merry Christmas greeting. It stings for a second to see that empty screen but then I glance back at the table full of people who have chosen to be here with me.

My biological family is celebrating their own Christmas and are fine without me. They probably aren’t thinking about me right now.

That realization sinks into my chest heavy and painful but also obvious. They care more about being right than having a relationship with me.

They’d rather exclude me and defend their decision than admit they were wrong or try to make things right. The quiet on my phone tells me everything I need to know about my relationship with them.

A Key and a Home

After dinner everyone helps clean up before moving to the living room for coffee and more dessert. Deborah takes me into the hallway while everyone else is distracted.

She delivers me a little wrapped parcel and instructs me to open it immediately. Inside is a silver key attached to a basic keychain.

Deborah’s handwriting is on a note slipped behind it. “You always have a home here.” It reads.

When I glance up at her my eyes fill with tears. She pulls me into a hug and I finally cry for real.

Not sad sobbing but the release of everything I’ve been keeping. All those years of being excluded, making excuses for others, and wondering what was wrong with me.

Deborah hugs me and rubs my back allowing me to express everything. She claims I’m her daughter in every aspect that matters.

And this house is my home when I need it. I cry more because I’ve wanted to hear those words all my life.

When I eventually stop crying my face becomes blotchy and my eyes swell. But I feel lighter like if I’ve been carrying this weight for 10 years and finally let it go.

Deborah wipes my face with her sleeve before we return to join everyone else. Nobody wonders why my eyes are red.

They simply make way for me on the couch and offer me a cup of coffee. A week later Deborah hosts a New Year’s Eve party for all of their friends.

The house is filled with couples and families I’ve never met before. Sarah introduces herself and says she has heard a lot about me.

She notes that Deborah frequently discusses her second daughter. Another couple comes over.

“David showed them images from our vacation which looked fantastic.” The guy says.

I encounter person after person who has heard stories about me. They knew about my college graduation and Deborah’s four-hour drive to attend.

They understand about Sunday dinners and movie nights. They’ve heard about Turks and Kya as well as the fishing rod that David gave me for Christmas.

These folks had known about me for years and I had no idea I was part of their chats. Deborah has been identifying me as family to everyone in her life the entire time.

It dawns on me that I’ve been a part of this family for far longer than I realized. I wasn’t simply introduced to it a few months ago when I brought them on vacation.

Deborah has known I’m her daughter in her heart for years and she has told everyone. David sees me standing in the corner distraught and asks if I’m okay.

I tell him that I just realized I’ve had a family my entire life and wasn’t aware of it. He smiles and says they’ve been waiting for me to figure it out.