I feel so lucky to know the Jazzman and be a part of his extended family. He has two brothers, with whom he has frequent, friendly interaction. His dad came from a family of five or six. One of those brothers had 14 kids, and one had 13. I forget all the numbers, but there are a bunch of cousins. They're all close. His dad's only sister passed on last fall, and most of the cousins were in the church for the funeral. They vacation together, party together, observe holidays together.
They like each other!!!
I have a handful of cousins on my daddy's side, but my daddy died in 1984 and my mother wasn't close to his relatives (nor he hers!). I have three cousins on my mother's side, and we keep track of each other on Facebook and, occasionally, in person. But we're nothing like the wonderful, warm and loving clan that the Jazzman is part of.
Thinking about cousins this week led me to ponder my parents' extended families. I don't recall either my mother or my father ever mentioning their extended families. I have no idea what siblings their parents had, nor whether they ever spent time with these family members.
That's just not right.
It makes me want to fit a subscription to Ancestry.com into my budget so I can do some research and fill in the holes. Because of my adoption, I don't truly feel they're my family, but I would like to know of their existence. They did, after all, have a contribution in how I was raised.
All those pieces to the puzzle eventually fit together, whether you like the picture or not.
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