As I am laying here in what used to be my mother’s bedroom some 40+ years ago in her parents house, 200 miles from my own, “family” still seems extremely abstract. On the scale of Family Closeness, I would probably put myself in the “Not So Much” category. I think I have first cousins that I have never met, or at least would definitely not recognize if I passed them on the street. Nowadays I might see my own brother maybe a handful of times each year, with hardly any other communication.
Back to the abstract thing. Sorry. It just seems like, Family is this group of people that have to accept you – although they don’t in everyone’s case – no matter how much you do or do not see them, there are always these other people roaming around with even more alarmingly similar DNA (and all the things that come with that) than any nonrelatives. It bears responsibility, pressure, and often guilt to be a family member. But it yields security, constancy, and somewhere to be grounded. Sure, I don’t particularly enjoy having inherited some traits, but, it’s kind of humorous when you think about it in a different way.
“Oh good, Dad’s feet didn’t stop with him.” Actually, those feet have probably been around for a looooong time. That makes me feel really weird about my feet.
Every time I come here I still learn something new about my grandparents (not surprising, as I have probably never seen them more than 3 times a year at absolute maximum) – today I learned that my grandmother played the violin, and that her mother played the accordian. ACCORDIAN!!! How delightfully random. She was also the local bus driver, FYI. I only vaguely remember her and her husband in some faint, strange memories about a kitchen table with a silver edge and something about jelly beans.
Then, at a gathering we attended for some distant relative (my mom’s cousin’s kids, whatever those are in relation to me) I walked in the door and BAM I could immediately pick out at least two people who had to be my mom’s cousins because of their resemblance to my grandmother (my mom more looks like her dad) AND by their LAUGH. I know that’s probably a learned thing, but WOW it gave them away.
Fun tidbit to end on: one of my mom’s cousins says to me, “Oh, are you keeping her in line these days? Somebody always had to do it.”
Ha. Another Easter Egg to be found in another visit.
