When we were celebrating Young James' life in San Diego in January, our cousins planned a mass and luncheon to celebrate Jimmy on the East Coast -- they all wanted deeply to commiserate, and empathize, and connect, but were so far away. We were so touched and moved by that idea -- this family of ours, man, it's good.
It was January in Boston, though. Therefore: one ton of snow. And postponement . . .
. . . until yesterday.
photo courtesy of Monica G.
It's difficult to articulate the dynamic of this family, and its deep loyalty, and the fathoms of its love. Yesterday Mistah and I shared a table with my Mom's sibs Uncle Brian (#11) and Auntie Ginny (#13 of 13) -- and Mom too -- #7! -- and the effervescent Patti (cousin #5 -- we had to fight to get her) and MB (#11) (I'm #19, of course, of 66), then caught up with my cousins, and my cousins' spouses, and my cousins' kids, and even my cousin's grandkid -- we had infants and 80-somethings there yesterday, and everyone is just all so deeply in love.
And we were all there for Jimmy. And Jacquie. And Clara.
The pain was right there with the love, and we talked and hugged and talked and cried and talked and laughed and talked. And hugged.
I wish I could figure out a way to make everything better. I wish I could figure out a way to make everything different. I can't. But I can hug these people fiercely, be thankful for the love they give, and look forward to getting together the next time. For a much longer amount of time. Because as my brilliant and beautiful cousin Betty (#6) put it, we desperately need some "in depth cousining".
Here's to James. Here's to his forever being #64 of 139 -- soon to be 141 -- in the third generation in this incredible family of ours.
We love you, kiddo. All these beautiful people do.
And we miss you like crazy.
Once upon a glass or twelve of wine, Jacquie and Beth and Ellie got to talking. We decided that we were all enormously smart and clever and hilarious, and that it would be a crime not to share our unique talents with the world. We decided to start a blog together.
We needed a name, so Jacquie asked Beth: “What should we call a blog about meand you and Ellie?” And the rest, as they say, is history. We are having a blast writing this thing, and if there was any trepidation that we were only smart and clever and hilarious that night because of all the wine, our words here thus far have succinctly affirmed our mutual self-admiration.
What are you reading?
Ellie - Middlemarch, George Eliot. Finally
Jacquie - The Nightingale, Kristen Hannah
Beth - Perfection: A Memoir of Betrayal and Renewal by Julie Metz