Family is always an interesting group. On the one hand, who pushes our buttons faster than family? On the other hand, who else shares so much of the same history -- good and bad?
My mother was one of ten children -- 8 women, 2 men. Only three of the aunties are still alive, all 90+. There were over 20 first cousins; we've almost all had children. Those children are producing children. We all have the same face == all the men look alike, all the women look alike. In the photo, I am between one cousin who is the spitting image of my late mother, and another whose daughter resembles my daughter.
My cousin who calls me her evil twin (actually, she's my evil twin although she's much shorter than I am -- and I know you're laughing at this, D) and I told each other that we make the worlds best salad. SO I told her what I do, and she said that was the exact same recipe she uses. We are all very very connected.
The birthday was a 60th birthday celebration. It was held up in the hills in the desert at the home of one of my cousin's closest friends. It was a mix of family and friends, and it was a great celebration. At one point, we were supposed to tell a funny story about her -- and my table was all family -- it was a lot of "no, can't tell that. No, not that one either." WE were laughing, but oh, well.
It was a gorgeous evening. Full moon, clear skies, not too much wind, not excessive heat -- great food, a real celebration. This morning we all gathered for breakfast -- we had three generations in this photo. I love these people. They all make me crazy, and I'm sure I make them completely crazy, but I really adore them all. We know each other's secrets, we share a history. We survived, and we are thriving. We are all very lucky.
4 comments:
I agree. The older I get, the more I value those wonderful times with family. There is something deep and mystical about all that shared background and history. Nobody else knows your "context" as well as they do. How delightful to picture you all laughing together at the party - lucky you!
Thanks Sigrid -- it was a great weekend, a celebration of survival. My cousin is an example of how everyone should try to live, she's warm, loving and embraces everyone. It spreads out.
Sounds like it was great. When I was a kid, the visits we made to aunts, uncles, cousins' homes were so exciting. I always looked forward to them. One aunt, in particular, made the best lunches. She put lots of butter in the mashed potatoes. Boy, were they delicious!
It's too bad you didn't share some of those "no, can't tell that one" stories on your blog:)
OWL, yum -- mashed potatoes with tons of butter. Used to love that, with red skinned potatoes, bits of skin still in the mash. Now I rarely use butter. I simply dream about it. One of my friends used to eat meals he called "heart attack on a plate" til he had one that nearly killed him.
Post a Comment