Letter 3: On Family

Dear sister,

It has been such a cold and rainy day here. As you know, when the weather is like this, at this time of the year, I like retreating into my warm shell, watching the raging elements outside my the mind treads on invisible paths. Some old memories have come up, memories which, I am sure, you keep dear within your heart too. Do you remember those long summer days, after lunch, when we would hide in the olive grove, our backs leaning onto sturdy branches, our gaze up to the cloudless sky? I do remember how everything was still and calm, the sun blazing hot, the loud grasshoppers busy with their fatal chant. I remember how close we were; we would share everything, and we would fight every weekend for one of the two to stay at the other one’s on Saturday night! Family: that is what it was. Sharing thoughts, even in silence; spending time together, quality time; simply loving each other, the ultimate expression.

Today I thought a lot about this concept of family. Past experiences and my constant reading have contributed to form an idea in my mind. I do wonder whether we are still family after all, sister. ‘How so?!’, you probably are wondering, stunned. Well, let me show you my feelings about this, and I will leave to you the choice of agreeing with me or not.

Let’s start with the basics. Family is usually considered to be a bond of blood. We were born in tight, small units which do share blood ties; this is what makes our blood kin stand out from everyone else. And here it comes the first of many divisions, the first of many labels. We grow up thinking that, somehow, the people in this tight blood-bonded nucleus are closer to us than anyone else; they are those who love us the most; who command the most loyalty from us; for whom we should sacrifice ourselves wholly, as a dutiful exchange for the simple fact that they have given us life, nourishment and shelter.

Fair enough, I say; I can understand this point entirely. But I do wonder: if that really were the case in every single situation, why do we see siblings fighting each other over some meagre inheritance? Why do we see children killing their parents? Why do we see parents neglecting or even abandoning their offspring? Why do we see in-laws competing about who gets the prime spot at every major family event? We have seen a lot of this in our family, sister, you know that - it is pointless denying it. We grew up in an environment where appearance was (and still is) paramount. We had to show to the whole world (as if two villages in the marshy wilderness of southern Tuscany were the whole cosmos!) what a perfect family we were. But I knew already at that time how rotten it all was. I could see the truth behind the façade, and I just could not understand why. Why lying? Why all this pretending? What did you think to achieve? An appearance of perfection in the eyes people as false as you? What else? Still to this day I cannot fully comprehend all this at times. Truth is, I will never fully understand it. Why, you wonder? Let me explain.

Remember all those names I used to be called? The chain-breaker; the black sheep; the white fly; the rebel. Have you ever wondered where they stemmed from? ‘You have always played the anti-conformist’, you are probably saying now. Yes, but why? Have you ever wondered why I was going upstream every time? You may think I did it just for the sake of it; just to be annoying, to prove my point. Well, yes and no. The funny thing is that, whilst everyone was judging me for that, no one really cared about understanding the reason behind such behaviour. No one actually ever asked me. I feel you ought to know now the reason behind it all; who knows, perhaps you may change your view on this subject as well.

Family, sister, is not about blood ties; not only, at least. Family encompasses much more than that. Reducing it to blood is simplistic. We need to distinguish between the biological meaning of the term and the cultural one. If family entails the sharing of the same genetic material, then yes, absolutely: we are indeed family. But it is also true that, if we go back generation after generation, with how many other people do we actually share the same genes, mixed with others and others with the passing of time? Where do we draw the line? This is when the cultural definition jumps in to help: family is the nest in which you were born and brought up, the network of those alive individuals sharing the same blood. Family is a unit of people who share a purpose: preserving the unit and pass down the genes to future generations, so that it may preserve itself and carry on. There you have it. However, sister, to me there is a third meaning which embraces these two and makes them just two aspects of itself.

I am talking from an emotional point of view: family consists of all those relations who are there for you, love you and support you whenever in need or not, notwithstanding the presence or lack of blood ties. I have met people, sister, with whom I probably share an infinitesimal genetic code and no family ties (in the cultural sense) whatsoever. And yet, they are more family to me than many of those with whom I do share such ‘natural’ links. But I simply do not care: in my mind, there are things which are just more important than genetics or tradition. I am talking about honesty; respect; genuine friendship; loyalty; support; love. There are people who have given me all these, and more: those people are my family. If it happens that they do share either my genetic code or some family ties (again, in its cultural meaning), the better; but I do not limit myself to these individuals in the slightest. It is about merit and intention; not about biology and tradition. This, sister, is why I have played the anti-conformist all along. This is why the two of us have grown apart with the years: we just stopped sharing those silence thoughts, those quality experiences, that unconditional, mute love which we had for each other.

Fret not, however; you are still my favourite sister.

Farewell.

Melody