By NANCY PATRICK

What a hodgepodge a family creates! Grandparents—parents—aunts and uncles—cousins—siblings. As a child, I had seven cousins on my mom’s side and ten on my dad’s side. Both sets of grandparents lived within a few miles of each other in rural Arkansas. Interestingly, all my mom’s siblings remained in Arkansas while my dad and all his siblings moved away.

That meant my sister and I rarely spent time with our extended families. My parents made sure we went twice a year to the grandparents’ homes—Christmas and summer. During those visits we saw all maternal relatives, but since all of my dad’s siblings scattered themselves across Texas and Oklahoma, we did not see some of them regularly. Dad’s older brother and his kids did live in Abilene down the street from us, so my sister and I saw them frequently.

After all the cousins grew up, we focused on building our own lives with families and jobs scattered across many miles. Things stayed that way for decades (we did not do reunions) until the aunts and uncles began dying. 

Some of the cousins also died at fairly early ages, making me very aware of the brevity of life and the preciousness of those early relationships when we had so much fun during our times together.

I began trying to renew those fading relationships several years ago by attending two of my aunts’ funerals in Arkansas. Spending time with my cousins was such a treat. We shared about all sorts of memories from our childhoods. 

Nancy Patrick family photo. Mike and Nancy Patrick top left.

As adults, we knew the “behind closed doors” story for each of our nuclear families; however, we discovered many new facts about our mothers from each other, some humorous and some not so funny, 

I finally opened a Facebook account and found most of my cousins there, so that provided a way to reconnect and learn about their lives. Some of us are more active online than others, but at least we began keeping up with health and family issues.

All of my older cousins have died. I am actually the oldest left on Dad’s side of the family and only six months younger than the oldest on Mom’s side. Yikes! That gives one pause—at least it made me stop and think about life’s transience. 

Several years ago, I “inherited” my paternal grandmother’s 1924 Singer sewing machine. That and a beautiful crocheted doily were the only objects I had from her, but at 73, I’m trying to become a minimalist in my home décor—meaning I want to give some relatives things they would treasure that I do not need to hold on to anymore.

That brings me to Sunday, July 23, one of the most wonderful days I have had in a very long time. Ron, my youngest cousin on my dad’s side, is ten years my junior. I hadn’t seen him for several decades and remembered him as a child. He has had a very long and successful career as a flight attendant for American Airlines.

When I offered him Mamaw’s sewing machine, he accepted eagerly. That meant a trip for him or me (he lives in the Metroplex), but he took pity on me and made the trip to Abilene with his life partner Kent. Both, talented artists, brought me one of Ron’s beautiful hummingbird paintings. I am so pleased to have it hung in my den where everyone can see it.

Mike, my husband, and I enjoyed a few hours of reminiscing with these two men. Ron’s mom and my dad were siblings. Ron brought me several very old photos one of our aunts had given him before her death.

These old photos prodded precious memories of the cousins as young children at family gatherings—usually holidays and summers. Seeing these photos touches the heart. We see ourselves as cute little kids, our parents as young adults, and our grandparents as a middle-aged, proud, and happy couples.

Several of the cousins in the photos have died during the intervening years. That part is sad, but seeing those snaps of days gone by—days filled with such joy, love, and anticipation—made me emotional. I hope most senior adults like me have days when they can hardly believe how full their lives have been.

I appreciate so much that my parents took my sister and me to see our extended family regularly, even though infrequently. My family have had good lives. We have loved and been loved, had families, careers, successes, failures, tragedies, and ordinary lives filled with the ordinary occurrences that make life magnificent. 

As I walk through my twilight years, I realize that I have had a blessed life. I can replace any feelings of disappointment or sadness with the knowledge that my family was ordinarily special (that’s an oxymoron, by the way). 

Thank you, God, for your presence and love in my life.

Nancy Patrick is a retired teacher who lives in Abilene and enjoys writing