I have always appreciated my dad being brave enough to immigrate to Canada. I’m sure I have had so many opportunities I would never have had if he had stayed in the old country. But. . .
I have missed out on something special: my extended family there. I have always envied folks with big families: grandparents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and cousins.
Luckily some cousins came to visit us in Canada. But I wish I could have met everyone; I think I would understand myself better, seeing where I fit in and all.
Of the few I’ve met I’ve always had a favorite. I talked to him on the phone today. It was like no time had passed and it’s been so many years. You know like those really special friendships you have that seem to transcend time and distance.
Looks like things have fallen into place and I’m headed to Europe after all and he’s invited me to stay with him while I undergo the treatments I’m after.
I’m scared (flying over a whole ocean) and thrilled at the same time (I’ll be there when the daffodils bloom in their spring) and more than a little worried about a barn cat (trying to become a city cat), an old cow dog (who has to walk on a leash in a park), and a soon to be lonesome cowboy.
At the same time, I’m so thankful to my cousin.