Bye Bye Love

At one point in my life, one of my aunts lived with us and the other lived down the street with her husband and two children. My great aunt and her husband lived a few houses away and her daughters were my idols. Needless to say, our lives were intermixed.

The young man in this photo is my cousin. Even though we live in the same town, I haven't seen or spoken to him in years.

I've given up. I could float a boat on the tears I've shed.

But we sure had fun as kids.

Wading through the Fog

To borrow a phrase from my Aunt Cess, I am an "out there" person. I come by it honestly. My mother has a shade of this and my dad's side of the family is filled with them. I'm not as "out there" as some of my cousins but I'm in the race.

Other relatives and friends seem to be wading through the fog. It makes me sad.

My cousin Scott sent me photos of his recent trip to Bolivia. My cousin John is still a baby in my mind and he's running a company. My cousin Sarah recently had her fourth child (four!) and is managing a business while her husband travels. My cousin Cathy just married on the beach and is running her own business.

The way I see it is this: You can choose the fog or you can choose to be "out there." My choice is obvious.

People With Influence -- Part Two

So many people impact me, even when they have no idea.

That first person, that boy or girl who you dreamt about and pined for ...

Your first love. We all define it differently but I know who mine was and he was definitely an influence.

The aunts and uncles who took you on dates, bought cute clothes for you and put up with you when your parents needed a break. Their influence in my life cannot be calculated. I still call or email and ask, "Will you help me?"

The cousins who forget that you're not a sibling. They drop what they're doing and say, "What can I do?" I have a cousin who occasionally sends emails to his family. It's his wife, mother and siblings. Somehow, I made the list and I get a little giddy whenever I see my name on the family list. Another cousin with an extremely busy life manages to make me feel important and relevant. She confides in me. And, she lets her daughter visit -- knowing I'm probably a bad influence.

The animals (okay -- technically, not people) who run to you, slather you with kisses, do the "I'm so happy you're here" dance.

Neighbors. We've all gotten so wrapped up in ourselves that we can forget to be good neighbors. I like it when a neighbor calls to say, "There's someone in your yard, is he supposed to be there?" I grew up in an environment where neighbors looked out for each other.

The children. Busy with their own lives and their own struggles. Yet, they manage to find time to email, phone or text. Somewhere in there is a message of love.

Grandparents. If you're lucky enough to still have them: hug them. call them. Soak up their love and their knowledge. (Ask them for money.)

In-laws. I miss the Captain and the Belle. They influenced me in a great and profound way.

Oldies. Take a lesson from me. Help that old woman with her groceries. Ask that man if he needs help across the street. Listen to their stories. You're not doing them a favor -- you're getting an education.

The husband. Maybe you have one of those marriages where you never disagree, you never get on each other's nerves and you never break a promise. I don't. I have a marriage that keeps me on my toes. (I tried it the other way -- I got bored.) I like learning from my spouse. If nothing else, he keeps me interested.

Pedicures

I do not have a foot fetish. But I do like it when feet are well groomed.

I used to give pedicures to the oldies. I've given them to my mother and friends.

The other night the husband and I were sitting on the patio, listening to music. I was annoying him and he was cranky. He planted a big ol' foot in my lap and I ran for my kit. Clip and chop. I really like the times when I say, "This might hurt a little bit."

Best or Worst Hostess

My niece is here. She is visiting before she starts a new job on Monday. I am thrilled to have her but I'm constantly fearful that she is bored.

Depending on how you define it, I could be the poster child for best or worst hostess. On the good side, my home is open. I will show you where everything is and you could not offend me in the slightest by helping yourself to anything. On the bad side, I will show you where everything is and I sort of expect you to help yourself. (Of course, I will run around behind you asking, "Do you need anything?"

We have fun plans for tomorrow and Saturday. Today, she got to experience the extra fun stuff of running errands, exchanging my cell phone (which she programmed,) and putting gas in the car. Yippee! Well, we did go out to lunch.

She is smart and aware. I like that description because so many of us bumper car our way through experiences. In the 24-hours that she has been here, she has picked up on many things about this city and our culture that I never bother to notice.

The dog greeted her by jumping on her and then throwing up on the carpet. I suspect she was getting an early start on Digestive Disease Week.

Big Daddy took us to dinner last night and a delightful tour of homes in our area. Then we did some singing around the piano. The baby will be over tonight so she'll have someone remotely close to her own age to converse with. Cousin time is always good.

Sleeping Around

I've slept with lots of people. That does not mean I've had sex with lots of people. Mostly, I've slept with my husband(s) and some girlfriends. And my parents. When scared or lonely, I've crawled into their bed. I haven't done this in a couple of decades but I suspect they wouldn't kick me out.

The 70s brought freedom for lots of young women. Free love and access to the birth control pill. Burn that bra and flash your sexual freedom! I might have been the missile but my parents were the silo. They held the key and the pass code.

A couple of times, my built-in moral code emerged. We must get married! Yeah, that worked out well. I've had more than one wedding but only one marriage.

My cousin (one of the smartest people I know) and I had an email conversation the other day. In the midst of solving the problems of the world, I asked, "Was marriage meant to be hard?" His response was, "It just is." I used to watch the oldies get cranky with each other and I was amazed that they had anything left to bristle about.

Having participated in the rearing of two children, I will be the first to acknowledge that the double standard still exists: Men who sleep around are studs. Women get the bad rap.

I know women who wish they had saved their virginity until their wedding night. I know women who regret not sleeping with someone in their past.

I know friends who come from huge families and sleeping with a sibling was the norm. I never had to share a bed with a sibling. I did crawl in bed with my parents the night before I left for college.

I had a roommate in college that had no qualms about having sex while I was in the room. I pretended to be asleep.

The baby will be 20-years old this summer. When he was in high school, my slightly demented father used to ask him, "How's your sex life?" I think he liked to watch his face turn red. I come by it honestly because I made him watch everything possible about STDs, teenage pregnancy, etc. Then, although he rolled his eyes a lot, I made him discuss it. At some point, he figured out that he was bigger than me and he could just heave himself on me to shut me up.

I still sleep around. You might find me on the patio. I have wandered into the guest room trying to escape the television. I have napped on the dog pillow. I have a key to my parent's house and I know their alarm code. More than once, I've been tempted to drive over and crawl in bed. Of course, their dog would bite me.

With Abandon

Someone once said to me, "You are so lucky that your family knows how to laugh."

Laughter doesn't do it justice. It's shrieking. It's being doubled over in belly pain. It can often become a "Depends" moment.

Last weekend, we had a lovely dinner and then played cards with some relatives. The husband does a great impression of Aunt Ann. Patty's laugh is so contagious that I get the giggles just thinking about it. Aunt Judy's facial expressions crack me up. I would swear Wild Bill was in the room. Peggy can hoot and holler with the best of them and she would win. My mother and I could laugh watching paint dry.

Our men were there. They played some games with us and then watched tv. No offense to them but the girls had more fun.

I combed my hair for Uncle Harry. He griped about it anyway. Then, I beat him at cards.

We laugh out loud. We cry at funerals. Sometimes we cry for no reason other than it feels good to get it out. We're kind to each other and we forgive the occasional emotional outburst.

Actually, we embrace it.

The husband and his brothers had a running punchline during the Belle's and Hangdog's funerals. They would introduce themselves and then say, "I'm the emotional one." They were telling the truth and once again I realized why we fit.

A Different Kind of Ant

Just like the song, High Hopes, talked about ants, I want to do it too. Only in this case, it's my aunts. My father had two sisters who adored him. One has passed away but the other is very influential in my life. I'll get to her in a minute.

My mother is the oldest of three girls. Her sisters have seen me through thick and thin. They probably get very sick of me calling or emailing them. (One is high tech; one is no tech.)

I was taught that you're not supposed to express envy or covet things but if you'll give me a little wiggle room, I'll try not to be blasphemous.

I can be jealous of my aunts. They are these incredibly talented, funny, interesting people. Then, I realize I'm grateful -- in a weird and honorable way, I get to say, "Mine!" It's possessive. I'm possessive. These are my aunts.

One of my aunts lived with us periodically during my childhood. She taught me this lesson: When someone else pulls your hair, grab theirs and yank hard. By the way, she's the most talented artist I've had the pleasure to know. She has more talent in the tip of her pinkie than I have in my entire body.

One of my aunts used to take my infant self on dates with her (now) husband. She is far and away the funniest woman I know. I refer to her as a combination of Lucille Ball and Wild Bill. Who taught me to roll my eyes? Plus, she cooks all the time. She shares cookbooks and recipes. Do you think she's trying to tell me to kick it up a notch?

One of my aunts is a writer, speaker, community activist and has dedicated her life to family and social reform. Her influence is unending and she planted the seed for my writing passion. She's also been in the position of dealing with illness and in-home care. I can turn to her for advice or a pick-me-up talk when I'm freaking about the oldies. Plus, she's the strongest woman in the world.

My other aunt is deceased. I did not know her well. That makes me sad.

I have two great aunts on my mother's side. One showers me with soaps, lotions, candles and potions. She has dealt with her own health issues and frankly, I am stunned that she makes such an effort. (Maybe she remembers that I was the good eater.)

My other great Aunt has the most contagious laugh you've ever heard. If I'm lucky, I see her a few times a year. I always leave her presence with my heart full and my stomach hurting from too many belly laughs.

Aunts get the short end of the stick. They're not your parents and usually, their children are your generational equals so you tend to spend more time with the cousins. If you're lucky, you know and love your cousins. But it's the aunts who remember your birthday or helped pick out your baptism outfit or babysat so your parents could get a moment to themselves.

The husband had a million aunts. His mother came from a family of a jillion. (I stop counting after five.) He loved them and is in contact with some of his cousins but it's not like the relationships I have with my aunts.

As adults, we forget. So, I raise my coffee mug in a toast to aunts.

I have three aunts and two great-aunts. I am honored to also call them my friends.

Hunting

I went hunting today.

Not like when my cousin Scott goes hunting ... he goes to Africa or South America. He sends me amazing photos and although I don't share his passion for the sport, I am in awe. He's also pretty talented with hunting lucrative business deals.

My hunting is a lot more tame. I don't even need my bullet.

I was supposed to meet my mother for lunch. Something came up with the oldies so I discussed a possible postponement until tomorrow. I said I would call in an hour.

The issue was resolved and I headed out. I called her home. I called her cell phone. I started leaving LOUD messages: Hello! Hello! I know it's going to a recorder but it made me feel better.

I drove to the other side of town, sat in her driveway for a while and then came to a decision: I will find her.

She and my Aunt Judy were having lunch in a cafe that she had mentioned to me. This occurred to me after I'd run through Kroger, stopped at the church, drove through the parking lot at Wendy's and Red Lobster. Finding the little cafe was tricky. I wish I had a photo of the look on her face when I walked in the door.

Scott has nothing on me. I'm a pretty good hunter too.

Cousins

My cousins are my siblings. I'm an only child. I need them. I bulldog my way into their lives.

We've never lived in the same state yet I know the highs and lows of their lives. Heaven knows that they know way too much about me.

When I was 12-years old, my parents put me on a plane to visit his sister and family. (My first plane trip. My mom commented to my dad, "I hope she makes it.") I saw the ocean for the first time. I bought white platform shoes -- it was the 70s! A new family emerged. We're all grown now and we still lean on each other. They provide business advice and legal counsel. I provide marketing tips and occasional editing.

We share photos and marvel that this shared and weird history has shaped the people we have become. I may not talk to them often enough but there is not a doubt in my mind that I could pick up the phone and say, "Help!" They would come through. I would turn myself inside out to help any of them.

I have a couple of cousins on the other side of my family. I don't know them at all.