Missing Cousins

Missing Cousins

Recently, I attended a memorial service for one of my cousins. Many spoke of his generosity, his commitment to helping others, and his love for his family. His cousins remembered adventures they had shared. Laughter mixed with our tears. Cousins share a special bond.

We spent a lot of time with our cousins when we were young — and we had lots of cousins! Since we moved often, my siblings and I lodged with cousins while our parents packed up old homes and unpacked in new ones. We ate together, played together, attended church and school together, and slept together. 

By age three, I was the oldest of three. One March, my mother’s sister was visiting with her three children (oldest aged four), when a blizzard struck. We hunkered down sleeping in playpens, on couches, and doubling up in cribs. I barely remember the storm but I will never forget holding my cousin’s hand as we drifted off to sleep.

Every summer, we created a village of cousins in our bungalow community near the Great South Bay. Often, strange children would knock on the door claiming to be cousins. We absorbed them quickly into our plans as we dug for buried treasure, wiggled our toes in the sand to find clams, fished for blowfish in the bay, gathered beach grass, sailed across the seas in beached boats, and sat around the fire as the sun set. We listened to grandparents, aunts, and uncles, and great-aunts and great-uncles tell family stories. Their shared memories became ours.

I spent time in each of my close cousins’ homes. I will never forget the epic nosebleed I suffered when spending a week with one set of cousins or the never-ending game of Monopoly played when staying with another set. One imaginative cousin created epic stories told in the early morning hours as the sun rose. I searched for rainbows and watched the sun go down with many others.

Children of my generation share many memories with cousins. As I said, we had lots of them. My children and their cousins share memories too. But I worry about the latest generation’s connections to their cousins. As families separate for jobs and opportunities, many children live far from cousins. How will they connect?

My own cousins live far from me now. We stay in touch through new technologies but our adventures are separate now. Nevertheless, we share a special bond. We share our joys and sorrows. Our tears mix with our laughter. I hope that this latest generation of cousins, though separated by miles, will find ways to make memories too. 

Memorial services are times for memories. Our shared memories shaped the people we became. Author Justin Cronin wrote: "As long as we remember a person, they're not really gone. Their thoughts, their feelings, their memories, they become a part of us.” 

Cousins never forget cousins. My cousins are a part of me. Our memories hold us close.