Not ready to say goodbye

  

  I suppose I'm the queen of compartmentalization.  If you need to get through something I can teach you how to put your emotions in a box, seal them up and file them away indefinitely.  God only knows what treasures lie buried in my subconscious and God knows no one needs to know. Scary I'm certain!  I find myself in a very awkward place. Drippy tears eak out at inappropriate times and places. While watching commercials or looking at my children's photos I am overcome with uncontrollable emotion.  Not good for the Q of C.  I do have a lot to cry about of late, but haven't really been able to let it all come to the surface. That is until the news of the very sudden and unfortunate passing of comedian Robin Williams.  Isn't it funny how someone whom I never met, didn't really know at all, could cause a wave of uncontrollable grief to be released.  I lost my father in April to heart failure and cancer which seamed to rage in and deplete him in an instant.  Then in late July I lost my big brother to a drug overdose. I feel like these endings were an inevitable scene in a very heartbreaking film, but I just am not ready to say goodbye.  To watch the credits scroll up, with a large part of my life too...The End....it's almost easier to wail and scream for someone whose life story hasn't amputated my own.  I know I will have to open these carefully closed boxes sooner than later and really deal with my loss, but for now, I will pause the story.. I'm just not ready to say goodbye.

Cousins

If there is one thing my family did well it was fostering relationships between cousins.  Although my  experience with my own siblings was strange and could have been the used as a doctoral thesis for a budding psychiatrist, my cousin relationship was filled with sweet summer play and was as normal as I think it should have been.  My dad was one of four kids.  His twin sisters each had four as well. Now we had three in our family, but I was the only one who went on extended "cousin cations".  Every summer I would take the greyhound bus from Phoenix to Tucson, a sometimes sketchy two hour ride, and stay for 2 weeks, sometimes 3, depending on how sick we got of each other.  I would start and end at Aunt Nancy and Uncle Burt's house and spend the middle of my trip at Aunt Margaret and Uncle Bill's house.  This was truly the highlight of my summer. I could not wait to simply play all day with these wonderful creatures.  We fought too,  like normal kids do.  To disagree,feel sorry, forgive and move on , was a completely foreign concept to me. I hope I have instilled  this in my own children.  At Aunt Nancy's I got to play with "the boys".  Danny, Kevin and John...there was Colleen too.  We would swim, ride bikes, play at the park across the street for hours.... Colleen and I would ride the city bus all over Tucson! I watched little boys do little boy things.  My brother locked himself  in his room , I was forbidden to enter or bother him.  These boy cousins transfixed me.  They did things like, carefully tying  a string around the body of a cicada and then let the buzzing large black bug zoom around in circles. They would also put the bugs on Colleen and me and then run away.   It was almost like watching a beautiful story unfold before your eyes. I felt so tickled to be a small part of their everyday life. I've never felt so safe and free at the same time as I did those summer days.  My uncle Burt, after I'm certain, was an exhausting day at work, would sit down with a cocktail and be instantly bombarded with attention seeking children.  His tone seemed slightly agitated  but he would relent and finally listen intently to the trials and triumphs of the day.  He would fire back like only a seasoned attorney can do with his own set of questions.  Some seemed appropriate some seemed to just fuel a bigger discussion.  He wasn't what I would call warm and fuzzy but his care and concern were and still are very genuine.  He was strict but generous. My Aunt Nancy was and is still everything I strive to be.  Her diminutive size was only predicated by her huge heart, and amazing ability to command her "troops".  Gentle disciplinarian , champion for all, and I mean ALL.  She effortlessly was able to make meals for her crew, volunteer not only herself but all of us to do philanthropic things, more importantly, she had and still does have a unshakable faith in God and a fantastic sense of humor.  Beyond the love of my own mother, my love for this woman is unrivaled.  Colleen and I to this day are amazed that she was so trusting. To let us venture off with a promise to be back by dinner time is so beyond how we hover over our children monitoring their every move like a carefully played game of chess.  I suppose she just had more faith in society and us to do the right thing.
Aunt Margaret and Uncle Bill's house was another adventure. They had four girls. So I just fit right in like another.  The girls shared two rooms.  Andy and Sally in one and Tina and Jenny in another. What I remember most about those summer days were the nights.  We would stay awake for hours it seemed and talk about everything. Boys, friends, school, family, scary stories. I couldn't imagine better "sisters". They we're definitely  not girlie girls.  Uncle Bill made up for not having boys by coaching his own team of girls. They were and still are pretty amazing athletes.  Uncle Bill loved to run and was so thrilled to compete and complete the Boston Marathon.  The Polson's are Greek.  Which meant being a fly on the wall for some pretty amazing parties... Belly dancers included.  The food was the most amazing part. I can credit my love for spanakopita  to my Polson clan.  We would swim and play all day, doing  crazy jumps and tricks off the diving board. I felt like I could tell those girls any secret and know it would be safe.  We all live very different lives now. Spread across the country and raising our own families.  Most of us are still in Arizona but I only see them on rare occasions.  I do stalk them on Facebook, and am delighted to see the next generations of cousins flourish.  As  my immediate family has become smaller I am reminded of how great an impact my extended family has had on who I am as a mother, wife, friend and even child.  When Hillary Clinton used the African proverb, " it takes a village" she wasn't kidding.  I will never be able to adequately express the gratitude I have for my cousins, aunts and uncles for embracing me, treating  me like one of their own, parenting me without reservation.