A Parent's Dream

Thanks to Netflix, I have discovered a whole new world of television.  Over the past few months, I've watched the entire seasons of "Doc Martin," (how could I not love such an obnoxious, rude, know-it-all?) "Orange is the New Black," and, most recently, "Parenthood."  I can't wait for Thursday nights at 10:00!  

I love this show because the actors are phenomenal and the story lines seem believable, real.  But, the real reason I love this show is because the Braverman clan is so strikingly different from the family I grew up in.  And yet, it's what I hope my own family will some day become.   The Bravermans are a loving, loyal family who truly enjoy spending time with one another, traveling together, and, of course, are exceptionally devoted to the family matriarch.  (Okay, I made up the matriarch part--that's just my  own personal dream.)

Obviously, I realize this family is fabricated.  And they aren't perfect.  Like all of us, they fight, they suffer, they face real problems and real challenges.  But, since they live in Hollywood, by the end of the show, they have forgiven one another and are seated around their parent's dinner table, laughing and loving one another.  Just like the family I grew up in.... NOT!

I realize I'm not the only person to hail from a dysfunctional family.  There are a lot of us out there.  It could even be argued that dysfunction is the new norm.  That the Braverman-types are the exception.   All is know is that I have worked for over twenty years to ensure my family is loving, kind to one another, and happy spending time together.  

Because wouldn't it be wonderful to spend time with your siblings, because you want to?  To live in the same town.  To "pop-in" for coffee.  To share a favorite restaurant.  My sisters and I are as geographically and emotionally distant as possible.  They have struggled with alcoholism and drug addiction for much of their lives.  And the last time I saw the two of them was several years ago, at my nephew's funeral.  After he was shot, during a drug deal gone bad.  

Nor are my parents anything like the Braverman leaders.  They divorced when I was twelve years old when my mom left to find herself.  My dad married and divorced two other women before he found sobriety and peace with himself. In contrast to the Bravermans, my family looks like an episode just waiting for a call from Jerry Springer.  My husband's family has also had it's share of troubles, but since I don't feel I have permission to share that with the world, I won't.  Suffice it to say, that the my Larson Clan is small, probably too small to be called a clan as it numbers only four.  But four is a start.  

My hope is to see this number grow as I grow old.  To see my daughters love one another, laugh and cry together, go out for coffee, and talk about important things like Nora's Prom, and where she should go for college.  Then to move on to bigger things like their husbands and their children.  I'm seeing the beginning of this already. When Anna does Nora's hair.  When they go out to Starbucks for "treats."  When they watch Harry Potter together on the couch for the zillionth time.  When they strike ridiculous poses in front of the camera for Instagram or Anna's Face book.  Recently, I even overheard Anna ask Nora for "advice" on dealing with an over-booked social calendar.  Which I thought was HILARIOUS.  

While their closeness may only be in the developmental phase, and apparent only to Dave and I, I am beginning to see signs of their adult relationship.  This makes me very happy.  For, no matter what, they will always be ten years apart.   My dream is for them to always be something together.  Sisters.  What sisters are meant to be.