It is funny how we can go years without seeing our family and, yet, when we get together we are still that: family. Never strangers; always family. I don't really know why we end up going so long without seeing people who mean so much to us; it just ends up happening.
As I spent yesterday laughing and dining over a six hour luncheon with my great aunt and uncle, I am reminded of how much family traits permeate into who we are - regardless of distance or time. Someone once said to me that when they look at the kidlet, all they see is his dad but once he makes faces, gesture and opens his mouth, it's all me. I saw this yesterday in my great uncle who I have adored all my life; he is an 80 year old version of my dad from his gestures to his sharp, dry wit.
After my great aunt chastised us for a two year absenteeism ending with "glad you didn't die or, worse, hate us," the conversation turned to marriage with their celebrating 55 years. I was so in awe of this couple who still held hands at the table while talking about how they met in the Yukon, funny stories about the patience needed to be a couple and what they have learned from each other and their incredible family. It was so heartwarming to watch an 80 year old couple tease and look at each other so lovingly.
Inevitably, the conversation came to my recent nuptials. Never one to beat around the bush, my great aunt asked what "the husband" was like. Before I could answer, my parents, aunt and uncle all chimed in that he is a great guy, so handsome (my aunt!) and they were all so happy. My mother added that his family is wonderful; his mother a "real hoot" not unlike my great aunt. It was hard not to be weepy when my uncle proclaimed, "She sure got it right this time." It seems I am not the only one relieved that I found my prince.
As I tackled painting the hallways and stairwells today, I believe that the paramedic - on his split shift - drew upon the patience needed for a successful marriage as I whined about not being able to reach the high spots and leaving unpainted chunks for him. :) How, exactly, is a short person expected to paint a high ceilinged stairwell?
What am I thankful for today? That I married a tall prince who is just as an impatient and terrible painter as me and that we have lots of photos to put up on the walls. :)
