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Written by Jon Larson

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I stood there staring in astonishment, and it was hard to fathom. I mean, I am a self-proclaimed gardener, and a pretty good one too, I thought. This was something different though. It made my gardening efforts look like amateur hour.

Our summers always involve back-to-back weekends of family reunions. This has been going on for over twenty years. The reunions are on both my mom’s and my dad’s side, so I get to bump into aunts, uncles, and cousins too. The reunions are usually at a neutral location, close to most of the people. This can involve a drive of a hundred miles or so, which translates to a full day commitment.

My wife’s birthday usually falls on one of the reunion weekends, and with so many other things going on in the summer, it can be a press to make them regularly. This year, I was waffling about going to one of them. It was at my cousin’s house for the first time, which I had never been to, and the next day we were celebrating my wife’s birthday. In other words, the whole weekend was taken up. 

Ugh! What to do? After some poking and prodding from my dad, I decided to go. 

Now, my cousin and her siblings can look a bit rough around the edges. They lost their father when they were young, and their mother gave them over to our grandparents to raise. It was like they were basically starting over, with three new kids to raise. Growing up with them was a little like seeing these wild children trying to be raised by grandparents who were overwhelmed and under-prepared. What transpired is that the kids entered adulthood with alcohol and drug issues, abuse issues (not from the grandparents), and general instability problems.

It is funny how these impressions of them have become permanently etched in my mind. My only connection with them now is at the annual reunions, and not everyone makes them every year, so really, it is less than that. 

My cousin is now in her sixties, living in rural America with her longtime boyfriend. When we arrived, their place looked pretty nice. They have a modular home on a lot of a little over an acre. The lawn was well maintained, and everything was neat and clean. We hung out in the garage, which was well organized and super nice. Why do I mention that? Because, maybe I was subconsciously expecting some sort of junky, run-down home. 

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