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Sometimes I dislike the concept of family. A group of people that you are so intrinsically linked to that you would die for them. It hurts.
My family is so, odd. When you get married, you don't think "oh, hey, this is just a practice run." You don't really expect to have a second family after your first.
I saw Suzanne and Eric at my birthday party in October. This is Eric's second family. This is the second time he's met his wife's family, second time he's showed off their first born kid. This isn't new to him. Does that make it any less special?
If asked, the answer will always be no. But it is different. That can't be denied.
I wonder how much longer everything will last. And what is in future.
I've been wearing my grandfather's cadet ring a lot recently. It makes me think about the type of person he was. The person that I will never know. I got to spend thirteen years with him, but I don't know him. You never really know a person.
I wonder if I'll always be second. I was grandpa's. Or if that's not the case. Maybe I'm looking at it the wrong way. I'm not second. This isn't Eric's second family. I'm late. Eric was late.
I wonder if I'll always be late. Arriving at, ultimately, the right time, but later than everyone else.
I wonder what I'll miss.
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My mother doesn't have a favorite season. That struck me as odd. I've always known that my favorite season is fall. Always. Just known it.
We were driving back from Kohls this morning down Fairway and all the trees were so pretty, and I asked her what her favorite season was, and after receiving silence I added "unless you don't have one". She thought about it some more and said "I guess I don't have one", silence, "maybe spring, everything is so green. Which is about as much as you can expect from her when she doesn't have a strong opinion.
I'm so much like her its unnerving.
I need to do homework now.
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