I have crazy cousins.
I have a crazy mother.
I have a crazy sister.
I have a crazy aunt.
We all came from a crazy grandmother.
As the eldest child on this crazy side of the family (my other side is crazy too but in a certifiably crazy way) I have watched these younger cousins grow up and it was really fun to see how they are as adults (and I use this term very loosely as I saw some very juvenile behaviors this weekend!).
There were two sisters from each family represented this year. Watching the family dynamics was very interesting. I saw one sister sacrifice part of her weekend to care for her sister who had become ill. I saw tempers flare and sincere hugs given. Some were bossy and some were care-free.
I heard stories of how a couple of them had stayed with me when I was single and how much fun they had (sadly, I couldn’t remember them being there but I am glad they had fun!!!).
Some shared how difficult certain parts of their life is or had been.
Some had suffered great loss.
Some made me laugh so hard, I almost passed out from a lack of oxygen. At times, there wasn’t a dry panty in the bunch!!!!!
Some swore like sailors and drank like fishes!
But no matter who they were (we had two third-generation daughters and two first- generation moms from 19 years up to 82 years old) or what they did, the most prevalent feeling among us all was a sense of belonging.
We are blood.
They are my “peeps” and I love each and every one of them.
So by unanimous vote, we are going to do it again next summer.
To share our stories and our memories.
To laugh until we piddle.
To transfuse with love those that are a quart low.
To comfort those that are in pain.
To rejoice for new triumphs.
To brag about new grandbabies and to share funny stories of our own kids.
To let the love that Grandma Lou had for each of us seep from our souls to the generations to come that did not have the privilege of her unconditional love.
To gather together so none will be forgotten. For when two or more are gathered and the memories are shared, the dead are never forgotten. Their life continues in the stories and as each one of us departs for eternity, perhaps we will not be forgotten if the stories of our annual weekends are told for generations to come.
So to my crazy relatives I say, “Thank you” for taking time to come and reinvest in the past and to deposit into the future. To KK and Brianna…you girls are witness to the preciousness of family. Don’t ever think that it is not important to connect with cousins. It took us way too long to realize this. Don’t make the same mistake. Don’t stop telling the family stories.
With the two midgets and the bucket, I just want to say, “Remember that cottage cheese is good for your garden” and “POP”…..
Love you all,