Up on the rooftop

I have written and rewritten this post nearly a dozen times and have finally decided that there is no understandable way to depict what I am trying to express here. So bare with me and I will try to make some sense out of this thought I am having.

Both of my parents remarried about ten years ago and introduced me to a new part of my life: step-family. And although I love each one of my step siblings, the whole concept still seems new to me. Every day feels like yesterday I had only two brothers and today I am waking up to a house full of seven. I am so regularly reminded of my old family, seeing as the members are now a part of this new family, that comparatively this ten year long marriage still seems fresh and itching.

But it's been ten years. I have been alive for seventeen. Over half of my life has been spent in a situation that STILL feels new to me. My mom could remarry again or my brother could have a baby and having a stepdad would still feel new to me. Say I live to be 80. The first seven years of my life were spent in my old family and the last 72 were spent with the new. My stepfamily will have been a part of me for 93% of my life and that small 7% will still feel more comfortable than their unavoidable newness. How minuscule of a portion of time my old family will become the longer I live, but that will not make me more used to the fact that there is something new.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is that as long as you are connected to that which is old, everything else will feel unnervingly new. Change is inevitable, but so is our link to what we changed from.