How Do You Define Family?

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about family, and what that word means to me.
To most people, family means the people you share DNA with, or who have your same last name. But it's not always that simple to define.
I grew up in a semi non traditional family. My parents had 4 kids together, but I also have two half siblings from my father's previous marriage. (I have two step brothers as well, from my mother's second marriage.) And growing up, we had a plethora of foster kids in and out of our home for several years.
Fast forward to middle school, and I am given the assignment of making a family tree. I sit down with my parents to work it out, and realize that most of the relatives that I have grown up loving are not actually related to me by blood. My extended family is a true showcase of what it means to love and accept the family we are born into, along with the family that we find along the way.
My grandparents didn't buy into the YOUR kids and MY kids idea. It was OUR kids. Period. That mentality has blossomed and become second nature with my relatives. I could spend hours trying to sort out the who's who, but none of that matters. The only thing that matters is love & loyalty.
When I think about family, I think about the people who have been there for me through thick and thin. The people who have supported me, even when I didn't deserve it. The people who have laughed with me, cried with me, and grown with me. To be fair, some of those people ARE related to me by blood, but many, many more are not. They are the family I've chosen. And the family that has chosen me.
A few weeks ago, I wrote about what it means to be a mom, and how many don't consider me a "real" mom, because I didn't carry my son inside of me. My friend Thea summed it up perfectly. She said "You didn't grow a child inside of your belly, you grew him inside of your heart." and I truly think that is a beautiful way of viewing it. I think real families are grown in the heart.
Family isn't about DNA, or last names. It isn't about who gives birth to you even. The true sign of a family is so much deeper than that.
Some of you are lucky, and your blood family is all you could ever ask for. But for many of us, those familial connections come from somewhere else.
Maybe it's a step parent, or foster parent who raised you. Maybe it's best friends who feel more like siblings. Maybe your only family is the one you made yourself, with your spouse and your children. Whatever that connection is, it isn't any less real because it doesn't fit the "traditional" design.
The mark of a family isn't in shared blood. It is in the ones who would bleed for you. The ones who would give their life for yours. The ones who sacrificed time, energy, sweat and tears to make a place for you in their lives, and their hearts. The ones who you know, without question, you can count on no matter what. The ones who love you, not just at your best, but at your worst. The ones who see your value and worth, even when you can't. The ones who pick you up when you fall, lend a shoulder to lean on, and wrap you in their arms when everyone else walks away. The strongest families are the ones who have walked through fire together, and come out the other side.
I want to take a moment today and say thank you to my family. You know who you are. As dysfunctional, weird, and crazy as we all are... I couldn't imagine my life without any of you. I love you all. Thanks for putting up with me.