Today is my cousin Jessika’s 35th birthday.  I only met Jessika a couple of years ago when I finally saw her mother, my first cousin, for the first time in 45 years.  We had only met once before that I remember, when we were about ten.  I thought she was the coolest girl I had ever met and she was my cousin.  My only GIRL cousin on dad’s side of the family and we were only four months apart in age.  I remember her having this long blond hair and cool clothes and she was from CALIFORNIA – and she was so nice. It was sad that I only got to meet her that one time.  Because after that, my parents made the decision to disown that side of the family.  It’s a long sad, stupid story and maybe one for another day.

So back to my cousin.  After their visit with us, I asked my parents about her once in a while, but they told me stories about how they didn’t know where they were or they didn’t want to be contacted.  It was just better that we forget them.  I never did, but you know how life just tends to get in the way.  I just assumed that I would never see her again.  I had no idea where she was and I assumed her last name had changed.  And the way my parents had made it sound, they wanted no part of us.

I come from a small family, just my brother and my parents and now my parents are gone.  My brother lives 800 miles away.  We have a tight bond I think, but we tend to speak in texts and Facebook posts these days.  I had a few cousins on both sides, but because we were always moving and they all seemed to live on both coasts, I seldom saw them and no relationships were really developed.  I never felt close to either side.  Grandparents included.  I saw my paternal grandparents once every 5-7 years or so, my maternal grandparents a little more often, but not much as a child and by the time I was a teenager, I never found myself comfortable around them.  So family has always been somebody “out there” somewhere.  Sounds like a song, doesn’t it?  But then everything sounds like a song to me.  But I digress…..

Marrying into Doug’s family made me really aware of my lack of.  Good golly, everybody he knew was related somehow by blood or marriage and they all lived in a relatively small geographic area, so they got together often, or just ran into each other at the grocery store or church.  I was welcomed with open arms and have always felt a part of his family, but when I wasn’t overwhelmed by them, I really envied them and the relationships they had with one another.  Then, a miracle happened.  Out of the blue, I was contacted by my cousin Cheryl, the pretty one, the one who is so cool : )  She had found my brother on Facebook who sent her in my direction.  A couple of years later my daughter-in-law and I went to visit and met her, her three daughters and her grandchildren.  I got to meet my aunt again and her husband Ron.  And suddenly, I wasn’t alone anymore – I had family!

This past summer, I took Doug to California to meet these wonderful people.  A bunch of us got together for dinner and there was a point towards the end where I felt completely overwhelmed by emotion, a joy that filled my being.  What is this need we have for belonging to a “family”.  Is it something born within us or something created in stories and commercials?  How is it you can not see someone for over 40 years and still feel like you’ve known them forever?  How is it that a hug from these people can make you feel whole again?  Was it scary for this introvert to travel to meet these people?  You bet!  But I kinda think Cheryl is a bit of an introvert herself.  I wonder if it was hard for her too?  There’s still so much I want to know about all of them!

Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve gotten older and a little schmaltzy in my old age, but I find myself wanting to find out more about my background and my family.  I love to watch the TV show “Who Do You Think You Are?”.  When the celebrity finds out who they are, who their people are, it creates this sense of pride, awe, and belonging.  They become more than just themselves – they are made up of the past lives of all those family members who have come before them. I always wanted to feel that myself.  And now, thanks to the efforts of my dear cousin, I have.  Although there are a lot of things we’ve discovered about ourselves and our families, one of the most fun for me is the connection to art.  My middle son always felt like the “weird” kid in our family because everyone else was so involved in music.  Well, come to find out that Cheryl’s dad, my uncle, was into art and so is one of her daughters!  Art and Music run in both our families and my son no longer feels like the weird kid.

The two of us now want to find and contact some other family members.  This might be difficult and emotional because of our family’s back story.  But what if they’re feeling the same way, that same need to connect with family as they get older?  How could we deny them this experience by not trying?  So, maybe in the future, Cheryl and I will embark on a new adventure together.  Wish us luck!