This post is almost entirely personal. My oldest cousin died, and his family and friends gathered to remember him.
He was almost 12 years old than me. I always looked up to him, my big cousin, sort of intimidating, remote, distant. In spite of not really knowing him, I always loved his wife and felt more related to her and their kids than to him.
In 2012, I was doing an art show in Visalia, and out of the blue, Cousin and Mrs. Cousin appeared. I was shocked speechless—they were so out of context. Mrs. Cousin said I looked at them, and said, “Who are you??”
That’s kind of embarrassing. But we got a great laugh out of it and still are laughing.
A little while later, Cousin asked me to paint something for Mrs. Cousin. I was shocked, because family lore has always been that because of our Scottish heritage, we are all cheap. Ahem. Frugal. But more on that later.
Cousin and I had some great phone conversations, and he bought a pencil drawing that I was working on during one of those long visits. (See? All my friends and family feel sorry for me so they keep me in business.)
We saw each other a couple of more times in person, and Mrs. Cousin asked me to paint something for him as a surprise.
He lived 300 miles away, but I gladly made the drive recently to be with my remaining cousins for less than 24 hours. It was worth it. I decided it was a business trip, because Cousin was a customer, but I was planning to go before I figured out that little added benefit, which would have made his frugal heart proud.
Here is some documentation that it was indeed a business expense to pay my respects to a beloved customer who happened to be my oldest cousin.
About that supposedly Scottish trait of cheapness frugality: Cousin had his DNA done and learned that we have zero Scottishness. Zero! Kind of blew his joke that “We’re Scottish and Irish—we like to drink but don’t want to pay for it”. (I possibly could have some “Scotch” from other family sources, but I won’t know because I’m too paranoid and conspiracy-minded to take that test. I DO have Irish, but I don’t drink. So there.)
5 Comments
What a lovely tribute to your cousin. How nice that you connected through your art.
I believe family relationships are what bond us to our place and meaning on this strong yet fragile earth. May they continue to help you and all of us stay filled with the meanings of life and love.
Thank you for your wisdom and good wishes, Louise. I truly love my cousins, and this particular family feels a bit more like siblings than “just” cousins.
What a wonderful tribute to your cousin! He sounds like a wonderful man and beloved family member. I’m sorry for your loss.
I, too, am curious about my background. The only thing I know is that Devol comes from Da Val (“of the valley”) and that we are mostly French Huguenot. But, like you, I’m not keen on the idea of having some distant company of strangers having my personal DNA stored at an unknown location. So I shall remain blissfully ignorant, and, if I remember amidst the eternal praise, ask my Creator. And He will know!
Sharon, I hold strongly to the belief of one race, the HUMAN race. But I do love learning about the cultural and inherited variety, and love the idea of the Irish in me, particularly today.
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