That summer before college, I too attended a performing arts camp, enrolled in a week-long cartooning course. A call home revealed that my mom had changed the answering machine message to remove my dad’s name. He hadn’t been living with us for months, but something about his absence from the family roster caught me off guard. I confided in the friends I had made at camp, friends I would remain close to into the future, and realized that everything happening felt inevitable and correct. I was leaving home and proving I could make new connections in the real world. My parents, a couple in name only for most of my life, began to get along better as friends than they ever had during their marriage. I joined some of my high school friends in college, became friends with their friends, and started pursuing my passions in earnest. I realized nothing could prevent me from staying close to the people who were important to me. Families form while you’re not paying attention, and one day you realize that one way or another, the people you need are the ones who stay in your orbit. I look back now and realize that Home Movies taught me to pay attention to the connections that matter, even if they don’t announce themselves. I write about movies, I have a network of friends I care about, and I’m married to someone wonderful who happens to be content to marathon an entire season of Home Movies with me in a day. We are family, and we are strong together.