Once Again Surprised by Someone’s Words

Every once in a while, just as you think you are figuring life out and all it has to give you, from nowhere, you’re thrown a curveball that makes you stand back and ponder. It comes in many forms and can be something very inward or openly involving others. One such moment happened to me yesterday, to which I will explain further in this story. I have had many of these ah-ha moments, and for the most part, they have been good, but of course there are those that catch you and hurt. Divorce and the following ceremonial passage spent wrestling with failure, anger, denial, false acceptance, avoidance, rebuilding, and finally real acceptance. That is only an example of a bad moment, but they come in other forms too, death of someone close, retiring (which is also good), being fired, not living up to one’s ability, or simply realizing someone doesn’t like you. We all certainly like the one’s that fill our heart with joy and make us ponder and realize we didn’t know everything about most things. This is good to realize that because it really does free you to deal with the more important things in life. We all have those around us that constantly and shamelessly inject themselves into all situations and take credit for the outcome whether they had impact or not and as time goes on the impact grows to proportions unbelievable. I tire easily of that and if it was for my benefit somehow, it mostly falls on deaf ears with a constant bullshit sounding off in my brain. But let’s not focus on that, I’m in a feel-good moment and want to make sure those that feel I write of nothing but those things that bug me and leave me irritated with the world have a chance to see my glass half full side.

Over the last few years, my family has suffered loss of some very significant loved ones. Matriarchs and a Patriarch of the Wilson family leaving us with only two others to carry the load of who we look too for meaning and example. A few years prior to that, we anguished over those same losses in the Bow family ending with the surrogate mom for Jen just two years ago. And although we are on a seemingly long ride of these losses, we have grown closer as a family and learned more and more of each other as stories and history unfolds. I have learned so much about my dad and grandparents by a simple act of coffee time and asking questions. My surprise and sometimes bewilderment is only matched by the inquisitive thirst to hear more. Tales of my uncle and dad shadowing my Papa on bee hive robs, picking cotton and the ensuing all-day wagon ride to the gin. The understanding that my grandfather owned a couple gas stations and my uncle and dad serviced the vehicles. This is where they developed their love for machinery, and the joy of modifying something to make your own. I just learned yesterday that my uncle extended the frame and body on and old Farmall tractor to accommodate a car six-cylinder engine because it would be more reliable and efficient. It’s not the knowledge that this might be interesting to do, it’s the idea that they didn’t think twice about actually jumping in and doing it. This made me feel good to know that my family had come from very meager means and lived with joy and the same understanding of my more affluent children that anything is possible. The understanding that my grandparents, who I always thought of as being poor small-time farmers had actually bought the house and were living in it, that later became my aunt and uncles house because my grandparents missed the simple life of the farm. It was a choice, not an acceptance of it couldn’t be better. A grand lesson for those that need to show off what they might be capable of instead of enjoying the basic simpleness of a couple with little overhead and joy filling the air.

Finally, to the moment that inspired this story. Tragically my aunt passed from cancer this past week after a short battle. I was thinking how hard it must be for my cousin having lost both parents in the last two years. She has been stoic through it, but I’m sure she has dealt with heartache in private. We travelled to the funeral home to pay our respects to my aunt and spend a little time with my family. While at the funeral home, my cousin introduced me as her oldest first cousin and best friend. The first cousin thing obviously didn’t surprise me, but for some reason the best friend endorsement did. I had an instant gratification from it, but for the rest of the day I thought about what that meant. Could it be she has lost her closest confidant in her mom? Could it be she just needs a best friend to fill the void? Or was it just an awkward reference to the two of us growing up together? Maybe all of them and more thrown into one simple term of best friend. She could have said best of friends, but no it was best friend. Is there a difference? I think so as a best of friends could be the person you play cards with once a month, but only a best friend has shared all the highs and lows of family and life. The messy parts along with the good parts. That person, that no matter what, we are tied by blood and a bond that is never broken. I certainly can call Jen my best friend, we share almost everything about ourselves except the gory details of previous lives with others. As strong as that bond is, it still has some secrets never told. Not to say we couldn’t share those things, but mostly out of respect for the other, we don’t. We nurture our marriage avoiding the bad as much as possible because we like the good that comes from it. We choose to avoid the messy parts, although not always possible, because we don’t want to be judged by the other. But a first cousin, especially one that you have shared every moment of life with a mere year separating your births, we know everything about each other and we have gone through life accepting the other as they are and loving them for it. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her and likewise.

So, why was I caught off guard when I was introduced for who I am to her? I guess it simply boils down to me never having put it into those terms. My sister and my three first cousin share a bond that can only be rivaled by the bond of my children. These are our people and are the representative as the closest people we have to the original ancestral line. This comment opened the door to my understanding of my thoughts on my family and the meaning. I was lifted by the reference, I gained confidence by it. And what caused this? A simple heartfelt reference of me by someone who no longer will be thought of as just my first cousin, but as my unbreakable bond of a best friend as well. I feel good today!