I’ve always been wistful about living in a town with my family.
My Dad and my Mother’s family are both out of state.
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to live in the city full of people with my last name.
That, I may never know. But my step-mother’s family lives in-state, and some of them right here in town.
I have two aunts within 50 miles, one of them within five.
They’ve always accepted me as one of their own– called me cousin, niece, etc.
But I always kept a distance from them, probably because I wasn’t close with my step-mother for a long time.
But as we age, we are both working together to change that– trusting and accepting each other.
On some level, I think I felt it would be disloyal to my Mother, who is deceased.
But they have never held that against me– included, invited, sent cards, given gifts just the same. Hugged.
I have some young cousins who are wonderful and sweet and people I’m proud of. Right here. Older cousins, here.
I can use this time to get to know them, make plans with them, let them into my life.
I feel so incredibly lucky.
They are Catholic and Italian! Conservative. A generous, affectionate, outgoing bunch.
I DO have local family, even if we don’t share a last name.