Cousins

Gorgeous day again today.... hopefully, summer has arrived and will stay here...... at least till November, if we're lucky.

I spoke to my cousin L yesterday..... it had been a good many years since we've been in touch. L is the daughter of my Aunt Edie, who passed away on March 2nd. The same day that my Uncle Mino passed away six years ago.... which has my dad thinking that March is a bad-luck month for the family. My Uncle Larry passed away in March (before I was born), as did my grandfather (in the early 1970s). I have a feeling that Daddy won't ever be going too far away from home during the month of March from now on.

Anyway....... back to my cousin L. I had sent her a note when I heard that her mother passed away, along with a check in lieu of flowers. I've never understood the custom of sending flowers to people who have passed away and can no longer see them. I thought that L could use the money instead, to purchase a headstone for her mother, or to use towards the funeral expenses.

In my note to L, I mentioned that my love of Oriental art began with a visit to her mother's house when I was around 6 or 7 years old. Aunt Edie's home (in the 1950s) was filled with beautiful Oriental statues, screens, handpainted tables, and other bric-a-brac that I'd never seen before. In the 1950s, I don't think anyone else in our family had such exotic tastes in home decor.

I told L that I've found Oriental items at estate and yard sales here in Texas, as well as in antique shops. Every time I've placed these "exotic" things in our home, I've thought of Aunt Edie and her wonderful collection. She had the most beautiful statues of Geisha girls that I just loved when I was a kid. L told me that my note to her brought tears to her eyes, which was truly not my intention. But I would guess that anything can bring tears to the eyes of someone who has just lost a parent.

My cousin L and I had a nice chat on the phone. All the years we had lost touch with one another just melted away. She reminded me of something that I'd long forgotten. When I was a baby and learning how to walk, I was brought to my Aunt Edie's home for a visit. Needless to say, I was much too young at that visit to appreciate her collection of Oriental furnishings. And, being that I was learning how to hold myself upright and walk, I was grabbing onto anything and everything.

One of the things I grabbed onto was my Aunt Edie's coffee table. Well, I guess I was so happy to be standing at the coffee table that I clamped my new little baby-teeth down onto the edge of Aunt Edie's hand-painted Oriental coffee table. My cousin L said my teethmarks are still in the table to this day, and Aunt Edie tried everything from doilies to decoupauge to cover those marks over the years.

My Aunt Edie always believed that "little children should be seen and not heard." I can hear her saying that now because I know she must've said that a zillion times when all of us were growing up. It's possible that even as a baby, I knew what she meant... and maybe that's why I clamped my little teeth down onto the edge of her coffee table-- so I wouldn't be able to utter a sound!

I can understand why my dad has been so sad since March 2nd. As each family member passes away, the family gets a little smaller. And even though there are little babies being born here and there to keep the family growing, no one can really replace those that leave us. Who can replace my grandmother, after all? Who could possibly replace my grandfather? Uncle Mino? He was one-of-a-kind. And Aunt Edie? She was the keeper of the Geisha-girl statues.

My grandmother used to hold up her hands and say to us: "See these ten fingers? I had ten children. And just like each of my ten fingers, my ten children are all different. Each of them are special, each of them learn from the next how to get along with the others on the hand."

I can still see my grandmother, standing in the kitchen by the chimney and wiggling her fingers.