Family is a funny thing. 

We grow up fighting for our parents attention, approval and acceptance. 
We then rebel against their rules and ideals.
And we sway off the beaten track, with our parents struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Hoping and praying that their middle child would not be killed following her own ideals of discovering adulthood.

And then, suddenly, we are here; 36, 34, 30 and 29 years old and settled. 
Well somewhat settled. 
And we find ourselves on a family trip over East. 
No partners. No kids. 
Just the original Birch Clan.

And we actually enjoy each other's company. 

After years of not seeing eye to eye, finally (well I can only speak for myself), find a mutual ground of respect. 
We certainly do not agree on everything we do, having quite substantially differing views of success, goals and happiness. But we respect each other's views with only slight muttering a behind each other's backs and more than anything agree that we are BLESSED.

As I talk to more and more families, my extended family included, I discover how lucky we are to be loved and love each other. Or even just to be able to keep each other's company without a family brawl! 

So I think my parents should be very proud of themselves, VERY proud. 
Proud of the culture they have created and instilled into us.
Proud of an overcomers attitude.
And never giving up.





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