Family Matters

I just read an incredible post by Corner Point on the subject of family--mainly, how each person's family is best for them, tailor-made by Hashem Himself and chosen by the neshama before entering the world. She wrote of her initial disbelief upon hearing this idea, and how it slowly sank in over the years.

I can relate. If you'd told me in high school that my family was the "perfect" one for me, I probably would have laughed in your face. The level of bitterness in the laugh probably would have varied depending on how much criticism I'd received in the near past or how recently I'd been unfavorably compared to my younger sister, but it would have been there. "How can you say that?" I would have exclaimed. "Why, I think they'd hardly notice if I dropped off the face of the earth, except they'd have no one to blame anymore." In most families the younger siblings are always being compared to the older ones and trying to live up to them; in my family, I often felt like my parents should have had my sister first, gotten a dog and lived happily ever after without me. She was the darling, the golden child; I often felt like I could never do anything right or good enough. Additionally, for various reasons, I didn't have exactly what you'd call a normal childhood, and I was forced to grow up far earlier than most of my peers in a lot of ways. "You're telling me that I asked for this in shamayim?!" I'd say. "You must be kidding."

And yet...and yet. Slowly, over the course of many years, and with a farther distance between myself and my family, I began to gain a little perspective. Earliest came peace with my sister, whom I love dearly. I realized that it wasn't her fault we were always compared, nor was it her fault she almost always came out ahead in these comparisons. She never asked to be the golden child, and she was aware of the unfairness of the situation and often took my side and defended me. Then, as I grew older, I became more and more aware of many of my friends' family situations. I began to realize that no family is perfect; indeed, I am surprised many of my friends emerged from theirs with their sanity intact. (For that matter, not all of them did, but most were fortunate.) I learned that I had friends whose parents made mine look positively angelic and doting by comparison. This helped me view my parents, imperfect as they were, in a far more positive light.

As I have grown older and more mature in my perspectives, I have realized that, though my childhood was far from carefree and my parents far from perfect human beings, my experiences shaped who I am as a human being and I could not have been the same Scraps had I led a different life. I've learned many valuable lessons from my family; other things, I'll probably spend my lifetime unlearning. Sure my parents made mistakes...well, they're human, they make mistakes. I'm human too, and G-d knows I make mistakes! So why should I expect any better of them? Their mistakes shaped me as much as their successes, for good and for ill. I recognize now how many of my strengths and good middot I owe to my upbringing, and I would not trade those for any other set of parents in the world.