Can Some History Repeat? The Joy of Cousins

 This weekend a couple of my cousins came to visit. I have 17 on Dad's side, and even though we were stretched around the country, we did grow up knowing each other because we'd converge at Grandma's house most summers. We fell into three categories as kids: The buttheads (all of the older boys, who grouped together in various pairings at different times), "us" which usually included me and my two younger girl cousins and sometimes the older girl cousin if she wasn't busy running the house or working the farm, and the "babies", basically everyone else younger than us three girls.
We only saw each other once a year at best, so we made the most of those weeks when we were together.
My family would show up after our drive-through-the-night adventure, station wagon spilling over with blankets, suitcases and grandkids, and we'd hole up in Grandma and Grandpa's house for a little bit. Grandma would come out and greet us no matter what time it was, and then we'd wait around until Grandpa dropped back home. "Who we got here?" he'd always say, like he was surprised to see us. (Now that I'm older I kind of wonder if he actually was asking. I mean, 21 kids is a lot to keep track of). If it was anywhere near dinner time, we'd have stew and homemade bread made from Grandpa's own milled wheat. Those short moments were always sweet and special, catching up with the grandparents, watching Dad get back into his roots. But there would be this anxiousness, and we were all watching out the windows, waiting for "The Cousins" to show up. Grandma usually called them on speed dial 2 to let them know we'd arrived. And then it took a while to get their stuff together and travel that whole mile and a half down the back roads to the farm.
They'd pull up in their big econo van and pile out, then pile into the house with grins, and we'd stand around giving hugs and sizing each other up while the adults caught up on crops and asked how the trip had gone. Then we'd pair off. Whichever sibling went with whichever one was the closest to their age. Usually Becky and Ben and I would find our own place in the house and talk for a little while, warming up to each other, talking about what had changed in the last year. Then Ben would wander off to find better things to do (which usually involved fire or guns or eating).
After the first day, we were all old friends again, like we'd never left the place, and we'd run off in our seperate directions (far from adults) and do our own things. There was some kind of magic between us in those dog days of summer, something that didn't happen with anyone else in our lives. For me, this was a place I could be myself and not worry about who was watching. For the cousins, maybe it was just good to have friends around who understood them.
Becky and I spent so many late nights together, giggling like stupid girls. We ate a lot of candy and played a lot of games. I still sometimes imagine that tiny office of Grandma's and how many of us could cram into that tiny space to play Wheel of Fortune or Castle on the old Tandy. There were movies we always watched--Swiss Family Robinson, the Music Man and Robin Hood. We'd play board games like the adults did, but of course, much worse. The favorite for us and the younger kids was Scatergories and Boggle.
Grandma kept a stock of ice cream in her overflow freezers in the basement, and on days when it got really hot outside, we'd camp out down there in the cooler temperatures reading a box of old comic books and digging through National Geographic magazines that dated back to the 30's.
I can't even list all of the best memories. It wouldn't matter. Everyone has their own space and time that held that childhood magic for them. Mine happens to be a little farm in Northeast Montana, in a house that barely fit all of us, overflowing with Grandma's love and surrounded by the people who you didn't have to explain yourself to.
Life has changed a lot, and we can't go back to those times. Everyone's moved around and the grandparents have passed away. But there's something about cousins. When we get together, there's this piece of us that hasn't changed. Every single one of our circumstances may be different, but some how, there's still a little thread of magic between all of us. That family bond, I guess.
We're raising up a new generation, and our aunts and uncles are becoming the grandparents that we grew up loving. I see my dad playing the same games Grandpa used to play, bouncing little kids on his knees and pretending to steal their noses. I see my mom baking up pies and making sure everyone has enough food. When I'm lucky, we sit around and play board games at night. These are the remnants of the good old days.
When I think about cousins, I want all of my kids to cherish their cousins like I do. I want them to know each other and build the same kind of memories together like ours. The innocent childhood kind, within the safety of our little worlds we've built. I want to preserve the best things from my grandparents and let my kids experience it with theirs. I know you can't go home again. I know the world is different, and the characters of my childhood stories have all grown old now. But once in a while, when the cousins come to visit, I get a glimpse of how history can repeat itself. For better or for worse, it does. And in the case of my family, it's mostly the better stuff.

She Can't Help Herself

After shutting down my last blog (unofficially), which had about 4 regular readers, I've avoided writing anything of length for public reading. I know my opinions aren't going to change the world, and I know that they aren't very original or any more spiritual than anyone else's. But. Sometimes I'm kind of bursting at the seams to write something. It's more of a way for me to process things than it is for me to shove off my thoughts and feelings on the rest of the willing world. Maybe that's the purpose of blogs anyway? Maybe most bloggers just don't know that? I don't know. Personally I'm not a big fan of blogs. But because I love writing and because sometimes I want to spout off, I'm opening this new little guy for anyone who wants it.
Life got a lot busier in the last year with building the house, having an injured child and being at the hospital with her, and adding a fourth girlie to the family. So I make no guarentees about how much I'll write. I do plan to be more focused in this blog. While I'd love to have a multi-paged site with all kinds of good topics to explore, time and energy require that I mostly just focus on my narrow perception of society and the way we live in it as Christians. I guess. We'll see.
That's all for now. I have three kids to put to bed.