So-called long lost cousins

Since my grandmother died, there has been this assumption that our dealings with that part of the family were now extremely limited if not closed off all together. Words had been said, or unsaid, and these things are part of life, unfortunate as it may be.

Until June 9th of 2006.

I was sitting at a picnic table at the park, browsing over my notes, census records, and family group sheets when this little thought just whispered through my mind, “Why not call her right now? What’s the worst thing that can happen?” Yeah, sorta like Field of Dreams.

I flipped back to a number for my dad’s cousin whom no one has been able to get a hold of for quite some time. I didn’t even think about time zones, let alone what I would say to her. I was so surprised to hear her sweetly feminine Southern drawl answer the phone, all I could say at first was, “Sheila?... Oh my gosh I can’t believe I’m talking to you!” and it went from there for about 20 minutes.

Dad is famous for not only laughing at his own dry humor, but speaking whatever comes to mind before really considering his audience. It’s gotten him into trouble more than a few times. I was afraid this had been the reason we were cut off from our Southern relatives, so I felt prompted to apologize on his behalf first and foremost, and quite profusely.

Her mother, my Grand-Aunt, had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in 2001, and has progressed to the point where about all she has left is recognizing her daughter. However, before it got that bad, they had gone through the house and found even more precious mementos, photos, and bits of history. All these things Sheila would be happy to share, if she knew how to work her scanner. We’re thinking of ways to remedy that, so it can all be preserved against whatever hurricane or what-have-you may happen.

I had a similar exuberant experience the following day, I almost couldn’t wait until the next morning to call Cousin Shirley. I had only met her once under solemn circumstances, yet I had a feeling that apart from that I would really like her. I was right.

Actually, I love both of these women very much.

Shirley could not recall anything my dad had done or said to offend her, so that apology rolled right off. Apparently it was an error perpetuated for too long. I was sorry for not having called sooner. She only lives across the bay and we would have so much to talk about, do, and see together, yet that regret was only for the things we could have already done.

I asked when I could come see her, she laughed, “As soon as possible!” - I was glad to hear it, and because she said she’d need a couple days to dig out her treasures, I suggested “How about next Saturday?” and it was agreed. Time is still on our side and I am under no impression that this will be the only time we can get together.

She called me back last night to tell me she had also gotten a box from her sister’s house. This will be something akin to a Tupperware party… I am so excited I’m buzzing inside.