The night of the 1001 cousins. That's what I call the dinner party on Sunday in Lisbon. Sandra had the idea of bringing together a group of paternal cousins with whom I had grown up. Most of them I hadn't seen since my father's funeral in 1996. I didn't know most of their children, although a couple of them I had met as babies and toddlers. Two of them were now celebrating 18, and one also the fact that she had a driving license!
It felt a bit like childhood revisited, although all of us had a few more wrinkles, the men with a few more kilos, and the women still quite fit and smart! Who said that men age better than women? Only on TV! It reminded me of one of those birthday parties of long-time-no-see ago, the way we scattered all over the place, as if it were an indoors picnic. It felt easy to talk, no awkwardness at all. Mind you, I was a bit nervous before getting there.
Georgie mingled so easily with her cousins. It was special to see our children playing together. David, Sandra's youngest, said to Georgie "just call out cousin and everybody will come to you, don't even bother to learn all the names". It was sweet and to the point.
I thought of my father. What would he say? I genuinely think he would be happy. I wished he could be there to see us. Because these are the things that really matter, the thread and substance of life. Love, friendship, feeling, hands, eyes, mouth, nose, ears.
I hope to keep in touch with my 1001 cousins, on my mother's and on my father's side. They are the closest thing I have to siblings and the truth is that all over these years of sometimes emotional exile I never forgot them for a second. They remain part of me. Tucked away or out of doors, they're truly part of me.
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