Cousins I Love

I have talked alot on here about my Maternal relatives mostly because in recent memory, they were my predominate responsibility.  My immediate family on my Maternal side was small and intimate, my immediate family on my Paternal side was large and boisterous.  As death and age struck us, our numbers on the Maternal side grew smaller and my direct responsibilities grew larger and thus more dominate in my ramblings on here. 

Where as on my Maternal side my grandmother modeled a life of minimalism and piety with evening "parties" that consisted of the tiniest glasses of juice and a single chocolate bar cut into pieces to be shared quietly between three of us, my Paternal side brings back memories of a smoke filled kitchen, too many cousins to count and much laughter and shouts across the room in alternating English and French with a whole lot of Labbats thrown into the mix. 

With my parents' separation and divorce, and the raw and misunderstood emotions of a teenager in the middle, and the plentiful excuse of my own young marriage and babies, my attachment to that large side of my family loosened.  Add distance, and many of the cousins doing the same thing as we reached out and branched out creating our own families, and there was a raw and empty space where that side of my family had once been.

What I began to realize though was that the legacy of my Paternal side of my family never left me and I felt it every day.   Whereas my much loved Maternal side epitomized most facets of  the fun in dysfunctional, my Paternal Grandparents celebrate a marriage of near seventy years.  On their 60Th wedding anniversary, my grandmother turned to me and said "Jennifer, you will make 60 years too".  Her blessing rang in my ears constantly when Shel and I faced troubled times in the years following.  They raised 6 children through war, through polio, through many hard times and through it all they clung to each other, their family and their faith.  In so many ways I am who I am because of their example.  All of us cousins are.

And now we cousins who were once relegated to the kids' table on our grandparent' porch are all 30 and 40 years old and parenting our own bunches of children.  Through the miracle that is facebook and email we are now granted glimpses into each other's lives.   This past summer my cousin Carol called us together for an impromptu Cousin Reunion.  Not all came, in fact it was only a small fraction that could, but it was wonderful and affirming and most importantly so obvious that the love and connections that had been nurtured as children had stood the test of time.

This weekend we will come together once more.  My grandparents face the impossible task of burying one of their daughters, my cousins' mother and my Aunty, Viv, who passed away last week.  No doubt, we will mourn this first loss from our immediate circle with tears but also we will celebrate who we are.  We are family.  We are large in numbers and stronger because of each other.  We will laugh together, we will cry together, we will pray together and we will drink together of the lives we have shared. 

I am proud to be one of them and I am proud to enfold my children into this incredible legacy.

Valium

I picked up a prescription for Valium today*.

The kitchen is spotless. Cupboards washed & counters scrubbed. Oven clean. Updated photos are on the fridge, including ones of the inlaws. Wine** is hidden away for those times when needed.

Bedrooms filled with the somewhat noxious odor of febreeze to overwhelm the definitely obnoxious odor of teenage boys' hockey gear.

Picture frames dusted and straightened. Walls wiped down.

Children cleaned, combed and admonished on how to behave so that their Nan thinks their mommy is a GOOD mommy for the next 4 days.

Husband reminded that he has to live with ME, not his mother for the next 50 years. And then reminded again.

Now we wait for their arrival.


*The Valium? For the DOG. Annie is all Jack Russell and she feels GOOD. And what do Jack Russells do when they feel GOOD? Run. Jump. Play. And what do Jack Russells do when they can't Run. Jump. Play.? They howl. They whine. They eat down comforters. They poo in their kennels. What do their mom's do when the inlaws are coming? They drug the dog. BEHAVE YOU DUMB MUTT, NAN IS COMING!!

** The wine? That's for me.

P.S. Since I know my husband's family reads this blog ... the disclaimer. I LOVE my mother in law. She is truly a wonderful woman. And I know that it could be MUCH worse (insert nameless relative whom we are all thinking of here) The stress of their visit is MINE and mine alone. At what point in time do you quit wanting approval of your husband's parents? After 15 years of marriage you would think I would desensitized by now.

When Family and Blogging Collide

I have some posts written, and on hold, as I try to find the words to write here. Adoption Diary posts to come, as soon as I get this out of the way.

Ok, so yes, I realize I have readers.

And the majority of those readers don't know me in real life.

And more importantly you don't know my extended family in real life.

You don't talk with my dad, or run into my mom, chat with my sister, visit my grandparents, or see my very large arrangement of aunts, uncles and cousins at family functions. You don't visit with Shel's side or pass on messages to his parents.

But some of you do.

It's to you, my much loved family, that I address this post. First off, thank you for reading. For having an interest in my family, and by extension a small part of your family, and our lives, our adoption journey and of course, my sons.

Secondly, there is a certain safety in sharing deep parts of your heart and journey with strangers. Strangers who aren't going to recount your story to anyone that is affected by it. Its scary sharing when you know that some of your story may make its way back to people you love and cause them pain.

I have a wonderful, large extended family of whom I am very proud to be a part of. We are found in every corner of this province, and really across the continent. We have an incredible history in Canada that goes back centuries on both sides. And they love me, and I love them. We are part of each other.

So, to my family and close friends that read this little blog, and especially the Adoption Diary posts to come, I ask for your understanding. I will be sharing my heart, my story and mostly MY PERSPECTIVE. Please don't think I am discounting other perspectives of this portion of my life, but this is my time to share. I am not ashamed of what I write, but I also don't want it turned into fodder for family gossip.

I am happy to share with people who chose to READ here but the quandary comes when our story is shared and passed along with those that have chosen not to. Parts of my blog have come back to me, and not once but now many times, through the family grapevine.

The story has changed, been distorted and altered to the point of being completely false.

Our parents know about this blog, but they choose, for whatever reasons, not to read it. Heck they are our PARENTS, what do they need a blog to know whats going on in our lives for?

However, now we have gotten panicked phone calls from 3 out of 4 of our parents in the last month because someone took portions of the information I post here and passed it on to another loved one, and someone else passed it on, and then again someone else passed it on until it made its way back to us as a completely different story. Often much worse. Often more serious. Often scary.

The parents have been informed - if its important, we will tell you ourselves. Don't worry, no pertinent information on the kids or our family is put here without first being shared with those that need to know.

So dear family members, I am glad you read. I am glad parts of my story, our story, has touched you to the point that you have wanted to share it with others. But be aware in the very normal family way that these stories, when shared, morph and change.

If you have a question, ask me. If you have a different perspective, tell me. If you don't understand what I have written, or will write, in the days ahead, check in with me. But PLEASE don't ask my dad, or call Shel's mom, or email cousin so and so who hasn't seen me in two decades to ask what she thinks. And actually, its none of my READERS that have done this ... its everyone else that hears about the life I share on the blog that seems to.

I hope you understand the spirit in which I write this. Its with love, humor, gratitude and a bit of fear that anything I write here can hurt those I cherish.

Enjoy your weekend. I sure am!