Although there were five children in my immediate family, my extended family was rather small. My father was the youngest of six children, only four of whom survived to adulthood. My father was the only one who had children. We enjoyed being the doted-on nephew and nieces. My mother was from a smaller family. She had a brother and sister. Her sister never married. Her brother had three boys each three years apart. The youngest was about a month younger than me, and the oldest was about the same age as my oldest sister. Although we were obviously close in age, we saw very little of our cousins growing up. We did not do family reunions or cousin events – nothing warm and familial. Besides they lived about 6-hours away from our home.
As my siblings grew up, we sought out opportunities to get to know our cousins. One encounter still many years later brings a smile to my face. Here’s how it went down. Between my freshman and sophomore year in college, my eldest cousin got married in Massachusetts (for the first time. It took him three tries to get it right). We were invited to the wedding. It was a beautiful June wedding. My sisters and I very much enjoyed socializing with my cousins.
The three were very different from one another. The eldest became a doctor and an eminent researcher in HIV. The youngest brother became an attorney, practicing with a prestigious firm in New York City. The middle brother left high school and entered the Coast Guard, where he completed his GED. Of the three cousins, he was the fun guy. At the time of his brother’s wedding, he had just finished his service and was returning to civilian life. The adjectives large, loud and fun-loving would all apply to him. We got along famously for the rest of his life. He was always the fun guy.
After serving in the military, my cousin decided to go to art school. He was very talented. As a teenager he did very intricate glass enamel on copper craft work. He chose to go to art school in New York and while exploring his options came and spent about a week with my family. It was riotous. He was so big and strong that we could playfully pick me up with one arm and my younger sister with the other.
He was also incredibly helpful. My mother asked him to vacuum the downstairs. The vacuum cleaner was a torpedo-shaped, drag-along Electrolux. My cousin made fast work of the task, startling my mother by asking what he should do when the vacuum got too hot to hold comfortably. My mother was quite concerned until she realized that my bearlike cousin had simply tucked the entire vacuum under his arm instead of leaving it on the floor and dragging it along by its hose. Both parties were relieved when she explained the usual mode of operation.
The visit was not all housework and hijinks. One afternoon we went for a ride in the soup car. I don’t recall why we were going, but I do remember the ride. As we were rolling through the New Jersey backroads, my cousin spotted a tree with a large sulphury yellow fungus growing on it. The fungus was huge and very bright yellow. He asked me to stop so he could look at it. I pulled over, and he jumped out and took off into where he had seen the big yellow fungus. Expecting him to return in a minute or two after looking at the fungus – no one else exited the car. Imagine my surprise when he returned with a piece of fungus approximately two feet tall and two feet wide. He wanted to take it with us for further examination.
Getting the fungus back to my parent’s house presented no small challenge. My very large cousin took up the entire front passenger’s seat. The fungus was too tall and fragile to fit in the front under the bonnet of the VW. We decided to put it in the open compartment directly behind the rear passenger seat. This was an awful decision. My two sisters were riding in the back seat. The fungus was malodorous and perfumed the car quickly. There were no rear windows to open, and even with the front windows fully open, the smell was pungent. My sisters leaned forward to gasp air from the open front windows. Unfortunately, this put their weight just right to set off the predictable fireworks at every bump along the way as the springs sparked against the battery.
The ride home felt very long, but my cousin enjoyed a merry time sketching the fungus once we got it home. My sisters were not pleased with the trip and were more than a little surly about the fungus. It seems for the rest of our lives my cousin was always the fun guy. He regrettably passed away Summer of 2024.
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