My father’s family

This weekend, I went to visit with my father’s family.  Not the whole thing, obviously, just a few.  My uncle has cancer and he was in town.  It seemed like a good idea.  And so it was

I didn’t socializing with new people this week, unless you count my uncle’s friend, who just fit right in and seemed bizarrely comfortable with the family.  I just hung out with the family.  I love how when you get enough together the stories start coming out.  I love hearing the stories of all the things they have done, the happy self-mockery, the stories of each other’s exploits and mistakes and adventures. I wish I knew them all, but am glad that there always seem to be new ones i haven’t heard.

I love my uncles, my aunts, my cousins.  And I love the bitty children of my cousins.

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