The Glue That Binds Us

Family faces are magic mirrors.
Looking at people who belong to us,
we see the past, present, and future.

~ Gail Lumet Buckley

My cousin Kristi was here for a visit, coming from her home in southern Idaho. That's us, pictured above (she's the thin one!) You'd never guess by looking at her that she's a mother of four grown children and grandmother of seven, would you?

She and I have always been a happily envious of one another. I wanted to be thin and pretty, like her; she wanted to be able to sing like me. I wanted her straight hair; she wanted my curls. She's always claimed (erroneously) that I'm more creative: I know for a fact that she's the better cook. We've joked through the years about the human condition of always wanting what we don't have. We're not only family, we're dear freinds -- and that's a great thing!

We've been close since we were small kids. I grew up in Salt Lake City and every summer, my folks would put me on the bus (alone - can you imagine doing such a thing nowadays?) and send me three hours north to my Grandma's house, in southern Idaho. I'd get to play for a few weeks with all my cousins in that area: capturing frogs and lizards in jars; feeding the deer that would wander up to Grandma's back door; going to the annual rodeo fair. It was a wonderful experience for a "city" kid from Salt Lake.

As we got older, we grew apart somewhat. She got married to a dairy farmer and started having those four kids. I went to school and started working. We'd write letters back and forth, and occasionally see each other when her Mom would come to visit my Mom, or we'd go to Idaho for family reunions.

Then in the mid-90's, her husband was severely burned in a accident on their farm. He was flown to the burn center in Salt Lake, where he remained hospitalized for four months. During that time, Kristi lived with my ex-husband and I (and my Mom, whom my ex and I cared for) so she could be with her husband every day. It was a long and emotionally painful time. But Jim slowly recovered, and they both lived with us after his release so he could make his follow-up appointments every day.

As often happens, good things come out of the worst things. While her husband was healing, Kristi and I bonded once again -- this time, as mature married women. She helped see me through my divorce; she stayed with me while I was healing from gall bladder surgery; she was there for me when my Mom died in 1998. When I moved away in 1999, to remarry and start a new life, she'd fly out and visit. We always see each other when I go "home" to Salt Lake.

So I guess you can tell that she's a pretty special person in my life, and I loved having her here for a visit. My spirit has been fed.

I have been blessed to make new friends here in California. But there's nothing quite like family and old friends to keep me connected and grounded. Sharing a long history just feels so comforting. It feels good knowing there's someone who can look at me and think, "still crazy after all these years!"


Until next time...