Cousins Weekend--Where wearing lipstick and mascara at the same time means your overdressed

What is so special about Cousins' Weekend?  It's not like we don't see each other at other times of the year.  Seriously this family travels en masse to all events.  I almost laughed out loud when I was asked if I'd need one or two pews reserved for my Ordination--could you make that 10? So, what makes Cousins' Weekend so special; I'll try to put the indescribable into words.  It all begins when we drive through the hedges of Ditchley Pointe.  It's when we leave the world (and the make up) behind....

We come from three states; we come as marketing execs, guidance counselors, insurance execs, contractors, priests, health care analysts, elementary students, middle school students, high schools students and those in college.  We come as those who've been born into and married into this

mess; we come as first, second, and third--we've quit trying to figure it out, we're all just "Cousins." We come having experienced promotions and demotions; academic honors and academic disappointments, athletic success and bench warming status.  We come not to impress, not to outdo, but to just be; to be who we are at the core--"The Cousins." We come as people who have experienced trauma and loss, rehab and recovery, financial loss and gain, friendships lost and friendships gained, death and resurrection, moves and adjustments, but we come each and every year-- we just come.  And as we pull into the drive we know that despite all that has happened in our lives and all that will happen, we have three glorious days of just being "The Cousins."

The magic equality of Cousin Weekend this year began as we pulled into the driveway..
The new 16 year old driver pulls in and is greeted by the 8 year old who says, "You can drive now? Well look what I can do." as he
swings from the nearest limb.  And both are equally celebrated for their new skill as they run off to play lacrosse together, creating a secret handshake--simply Cousins.  Cousins embarking on another weekend of the solid and familiar, the routine and the tradition, the love and the laughter, and the unconditional pure grace and forgiveness.

We come to hear the familiar phrases of, "Don't leave the door open." "Don't forget your life jacket." "The mosquitos are really biting."  "Children take showers outside."  "Who wants to give Papa a massage?" "I'll just have a smidgen." and "Sit a spell and talk before you head out."

We come where every adult is as likely to reprimand anybody's child misbehaving as they are to grab him/her up in a spontaneous hug.  We come where we know that the first day we will swim and tube, the second we'll sail, kayak, tube, and go to the beach.  We'll pick crabs and eat at Sal's the final night.  In between they'll be every sport and card game imaginable.  We come each loaded down with food for his/her assigned meal but knowing that everyone will

be gathering together for dinner. There is always a pasta casserole the first night, banana bread, blueberry muffins (in honor of and remembrance of Gangan) and fruit for some breakfast, always ice cream, and always gummy bears and worms.  We come with lacrosse sticks, volleyballs, swim suits, towels and needlepoint. We come knowing the same pictures will be taken in the same spots that we have used for 18 years, and we come missing those who couldn't be there this year.

Oldest to youngest

By height--changes every year

But most of all we come with our hearts full of  love- and we come with and for the stories.  The stories we've told for years and the new stories we bring each year.  And all these stories are tightly wound together; they are wound as if they were multiple colors of yarn.  Yarn that is wound together into a tight ball; they are wound together so that all the stories combined become not your story or my story but part of our story.  The story of the Cousins.

As we drive away each year, each cousin takes a hold of a piece of that yarn and carries it in his/her

heart back through the hedges at the end of the drive and into the world--back into our separate lives into our separate states, the ball unravels as we move out; we are each given the right amount of string to be ourselves, but it never breaks; we are  always connected at the core because we are "The Cousins."




More about Cousins' Weekend

A Letter to Gangan
Another Letter to Gangan
Cousins of the Heart