Actualities

Family

We, being my family and I, had gone to a church to support my fathers mother. She wasn't really our grandmother yet, seeing as Brandon wasn't really my father yet. Granted, he is the closest thing I really have to one. I've never really had a dad. I've had a grandfather who has never really seemed to love me, and I have a biological father who left us for his other children in California, but I've never really had a dad. A real father figure. Until now. Which is why we were at a church for someone's performance when we don't really believe in that. She was subbing in for the church orchestras pianist. And yes, I did say orchestra. Strings, horns, the works. We were sitting in the pew, (I think that's how you spell it) and we were listening to the beautiful music. The had a choir as well. They were all making beautiful music, but the thing that outshined the rest, was the piano. Her playing sounded like it belonged in the white house, not some fancy-schmancy church. When she had concluded her solo, the music was done. She came back out to the audience (let's just call it that; that's what it really was) and came to sit with us, her family. We had barely met her, but she announced proudly to all of her snobby friends that we are her family.