For the Love of Cousins

This weekend, one of my cousins said, "It's really too bad that it takes a funeral to get us to get together.

I agreed, but had to point out that at least we make the time for funerals. Sometimes it is hard to make time... except when you are being reminded that time isn't a guaranteed luxury. In memory of a cousin by marriage -- my Aunt Bonnie's son, Richard Powell -- I spent the weekend with some of my extended family. Cousins arrived from Alabama, Colorado, Texas, Indiana, and Kansas, of course. I had a rather short commute compared to most of them.

For about thirty-six hours, it was like diving headlong into the best best parts of childhood. I just circled and listened, circled and talked. Catching up on kids and partners, lives and jobs. Reminiscing and listening to others reminisce. Remembering those gone by interacting with those still with us.

I feel as if I owe a debt of thanks to Richard for the gift of time well-spent with family. I definitely owe a debt of thanks to Richard's wife, Deb, who opened her home and her heart to so many.

We're already planning an intentional reunion for next summer. Yay!