Hello again! How was your summer? I hope you spent some time with your loved ones.
It’s been full-on here, as ever. I’m doing multiple courses right now and still building my business. The work never ends, but it is work on my terms that I enjoy, so it’s worth it.
At the beginning of August, my Uncle Eric passed away. I wasn’t close to him, so the amount of processing I needed to do really threw me for a loop. There were many aspects to that processing, but the biggest was realizing just how different my family is now from the one I came of age with.
There were 13 of us who lived within a mile of each other and gathered frequently all through my high school years: my grandmother, my parents, two pairs of aunts and uncles, one brother, four cousins, and me. We had family birthday dinners together regularly in those days, and got together randomly at other times, as well. We were fairly close-knit in those years, but we cousins have scattered to the four winds now and grown apart. I guess it’s a natural part of life.
Uncle Eric was a right character. We didn’t get to see it too often; he had terrible hearing loss, so generally didn’t interact much at our gatherings. I didn’t start to understand until later just how bad his hearing was. Thankfully, he could always hear Aunt Marty (his wife). Of course, when I suffered my own hearing loss issues, I developed a whole new sympathy for him. I also knew he was perhaps the only person I knew who would truly understand what I was going through. I’d never realized how truly isolating hearing loss was before. Nor how much people equate hearing loss with stupidity.
But back to Uncle Eric. This is him with his youngest son, a few decades ago. He had 5 sons with his first wife and 2 more with my aunt, so it’s safe to say that by this time he wasn’t going to mollycoddle any child.
Yes, my cousin has a gag covering his mouth. This picture of my uncle should be in the dictionary under “shit-eating grin.”
This is the man who once got one of his teenage sons out of bed by picking up one edge of the mattress and rolling him out.
My dad retired halfway through my freshman year of high school. Mom and Dad realized that I could be the first of us four kids to spend all four years at the same high school, with a little help. They knew that upon his retirement, they would move from Virginia to Lousiana, where my mother’s family lives. So I stayed with Aunt Marty and Uncle Eric for that first semester. Living with my mother’s sister and her husband and kids was an education – I was surprised at how different they were, and how differently they ran their households, in spite of being sisters. I just mean the little things you take for granted as a kid until you discover that others do it differently.
Like pizza. Mom and Dad always ordered the supreme pizza (with all the toppings) expressly so that we could each pick off whatever we didn’t like, and have exactly what we wanted. One of the first few nights I was there with Aunt Marty and Uncle Eric, we had pizza. Like any sensible person, I picked off the disgusting olives and mushrooms. (Seriously, why does anyone put mushrooms on pizza? They go slimy and rubbery and just foul.) Towards the end of the meal, Uncle Eric leaned towards me, eyed the little pile of gross bits, and said, “You know what we call that in this house? Dessert.”
So yes, Uncle Eric was a right character.
Aunt Marty passed away some years ago, quite unexpectedly and well before her time. I still miss her greatly and often. She understood me, was very wise and insightful, and had a good sense of humour. I so enjoyed spending time with her. Though we did butt heads a little – she would point out that I don’t suffer fools gladly as though it were a flaw, but I’ve always seen it as a positive trait.
So now those two cousins have lost both parents, and have cleared out the house. It was yet another reminder that yes, we are now middle-aged. That and the stiffness in my bones when I sit too long.
The other 11 are around, and most have sprouted add-ons, like spouses, children, and even a grandchild. When I think of my second cousin who is now a father, I remember that he was the first baby I held, and I was terrified. Holding newborns still terrifies me, actually; I guess some things never change.
So yes, I hope you spent some time with your loved ones over the summer, as best you could whilst still staying covid safe. Make good memories with them, and remember that there’s more to life than work. It’s something I work constantly to really incorporate into my life, myself.
