When I Was Young…
By: Funfetti
In the midst of wedding planning, guest lists, shower invitations, etc., I’ve been slammed in the face with some realizations. Ones I think I knew would come to the surface when an event of this nature was in the works. It’s difficult not to think about these family dynamics.
We actually have a small family. My dad has one sister with three daughters. My mom has one sister with two sons. All of our grandparents except one (my mom’s dad) have passed away. That’s it. Except for one exception, we all live within 25 minutes of each other (the central point being my childhood town; I’m one of the farthest away at the moment).
When I was young, before I started school, my only friends were my female cousins. They would baby-sit and play with me. They would fix my braids when my pigtails fell out and my mom was at work. They passed down their clothes to me. I so idolized them. I distinctly remember wanting to ask them (many times) what I needed to act like “a grown up”. There were always larger than life to me.
It was always harder with boys, but I loved my male cousins. We were always smushed in my grandma’s apartment, smoke wafting to the ceiling, the smell of some Spanish food on the stove, Yodels in the fridge. My male cousins teased me and made me laugh. When they came over to my house, they helped me swim in the pool (with my Miss Piggy swimmies). They made me feel protected.
At that age, you never imagine that these people are not going to be in your life. Ever.
I was a bridesmaid in one of my male cousins’ weddings. I joined dance class, and in high school, tried out to be on the majorette squad (part of the marching band) because my female cousins had participated in these activities. We finally had more in common.
Of course, things changed.
My grandma died. My mom’s mom. Especially now, I see how she was so much of the glue holding everything together. She got the entire family together every Christmas, and for Mother’s Day and various holidays. Without her, I probably would not have been very close to my aunt (who is my godmother) and my two male cousins. And so when she died the world literally fell apart. I’m still not sure how it happened, how people just dropped the ball. The first Christmas after my grandmother died, my mom hosted the holiday, everyone came and then that was it. It never happened again. There were fewer phone calls, cards in the mail, anything. It was like this part of my life didn’t even exist anymore.
A few years later, my oldest female cousin was getting married. She had asked me to be a bridesmaid. I gladly accepted. I found out that my first (last) home game (of my senior year) fell on the day of her rehearsal. I honestly thought this would be no big deal. I had been in many weddings before; her church was my church. Plus, she knew how there was a no nonsense policy when it came to missing marching band commitments. Instead, it snowballed into the biggest drama ever. She was convinced I didn’t love her, my youngest cousin (who I was closest to) told me I didn’t understand what “an honor” it was to be asked to be a bridesmaid in the first place. Ugh. My mom got on the phone and was cursing up a storm. It was not pretty. I remember like it was yesterday. I interrupted my band director (who knew all of my cousins very well) during drum auditions, crying my eyes out and he said it was fine to miss it. I shouldn’t worry. So I went, it was awkward. But whatever. I survived.
The following year, my middle cousin asked me to be in her wedding and this time I said I would have to think about it. I did not want to create the same problem again. I thought I was saving everyone from more shit. What if something came up? I had no idea what was going to happen. She wasn’t very happy with this answer. She forced me to answer her a week later, and I had to say no. To which she answered: “Things will never be the same again between us.”
God, was she right about that. Six years later, our relationship is polite. Nothing more. My third cousin didn’t ask me to be in her wedding. (But I did get asked to hold a trash bag at her shower for her gift wrap. Nice.)
Family drama is miserable.
Since Mr. FF and I have gotten engaged, there have been some minor improvements. I reunited with my male cousins after too many years. They traveled all the way to my engagement party, and we had a nice family Christmas a few weeks later. I’m hoping that happens again.
Come to think of it, my engagement was actually a pretty positive experience with my female cousins too. Mr. FF and I sat with them and their husbands and it was actually fun, we were speaking to each other like humans, like friends almost. Mr. FF even dressed up like Santa for their kids this past holiday. That was nice too. I felt… included again. Part of the in-crowd.
It’s sad and confusing to me that you can’t assume that family means friendship. It takes a lot more than blood to make family work. I have no idea what any of my cousins’ favorite movies are, their favorite restaurant… The blood is not enough to create a strong connection, something needs to be pursued. And it needs to come from both sides.
It’s weird to me that I know my two coworkers better than I have ever known my cousins. Being that my family has been around since before I was born. And I have just befriended these ladies in the past three years. One of them even asked me to be a bridesmaid in their wedding. I was beyond touched.
I’m not sure if it’s too late. Four out of my five cousins have been married more than two years. Three out of the five have children. Has the time passed where we could have had common interests? Is our family history not enough? I really have no idea. I’d like to think it is possible. That we are more than people who just get together out of obligation once a year.
Part of me thinks, they are older. They should take the reins on this. Then I think, why don’t I? My grandmother was always able to bring the family together in a way I envy. There’s no reason I can’t be the same way.
It’s a lot of responsibility. To search for the glue that used to bring your family together. When you used to just laugh and chat and eat, and things were happy and wonderful. I miss those times. As a cupcake on the verge of marriage, I wonder how much of my future will include mingling families. Sometimes I don’t think I’m as strong or commanding as my grandmother was. Family will never have that warm feeling it once did.
It’s a horrible way to think. I know. But I just can’t help it. It’s hard to feel positive when so much about what made your childhood so lovely has just slipped away. Without much chance of retrieval.
Time changes everything, and I hope that in some corner of the universe, it means it will change for the better.
