I’m fresh back from a delightful reunion with some West Coast relatives. The people, young and old, were warm and welcoming; the place we stayed beautiful; the scenery gorgeous; the conversation deep and silly by turns.
I hadn’t seen one of my cousins in more than forty years, and was struck by how much we had in common… including an ear for oddball conversations and “what if” stories… and how much he has in common with other cousins he hasn’t seen for just as long. We were kids back then, albeit with some serious physical and emotional challenges. Today, some of us are parents; others are contemplating big life changes, such as retirement or career moves. The years apart melted away, and we wondered why we’d waited so long to make time to get together. It was much the same story when other family members got together last summer for a less joyous occasion, the funeral of our patriarch, my uncle.
Since the new year was fast upon us, we talked one night about resolutions. One particularly insightful family member said she identifies a word as her touchstone for the year rather than a list of eat right, exercise, etc.
I’m still crystallizing my word, but I think it will be something along the lines of patience or presence. What I’d like to make progress on this year is my tendency to “thin slice” people based on snippets of observation: Nice. Mean. Annoying. Sensitive. Boring. Talkative. Kind. Arrogant. Humble. Instead, I hope to simply see them as people… and wait until they have the confidence or trust to reveal their best selves when I’m around.
And, I hope to see in myself less of my imperfections and faults, and more of the person my cousins know: The girl who begged an always-accommodating aunt to take the crew on yet another tour of the local meatpacking plant (and the requisite free smokies sausages near the end of the visit). The girl who loved to sing along to “Love Is Something If You Give It Away” on extended-family car trips. The woman who sends cards and letters on a pretty regular basis to potentially lonely older family members. The cousin who listens and doesn’t try to provide quick fixes. The woman who gave the gift of a family reunion locale–and who was blessed many, many times over.
