Cousin Love

There is no love like that of a cousin. I call it “cousin love.” Maybe you have had the privilege of knowing this kind of love; the kind that is cultivated over time, creating an ever-lasting bond. I have been blessed with thirty cousins in total, sixteen on my mother’s side and fourteen on my father’s side. Our ages span four decades, with my siblings and me grouped at the younger end of the pack.

I can recall sitting in the church for my aunt’s funeral over twenty-five years ago, surprised at the number of bald (family trait) and gray-haired people in the pews. Familiar even from the back, my heart overflowed with love for each and every one of them, my cousins.

What is it that connects us? The most obvious answer is DNA. The same chromosomes that are attached to my helix are attached to theirs. Evidence of this can be seen in the raised left eyebrow gene, handed down on my mother’s side. My cousin and I had a good laugh looking at a photo of our uncle, all three of us with permanently raised left eyebrows.

We share the same lineage and can trace the route of our bloodline back through generations. Society is increasingly curious about ancestry, mapping out family trees to create a sense of belonging. We stand on the foundation of family.

Nurturing is another reason cousin love is strong. Each summer my parents would host a “To-Do” at our house. The real meaning of this title was never clearly explained. We knew it meant in July we would have a party with my mother’s side of the family, and in August we would repeat it with my father’s side. You know, a To-Do.

Many years have passed and I wonder if my parents grasped the impact of these gatherings. They lasted all day and included swimming, yard games (I can still hear the tell-tale sound of a horseshoe hitting it’s target), card games, lively conversations in english and in french, and smoke signals from the grill carrying the scent of hamburgers, hot dogs and barbecue chicken to neighboring yards.

We have only a few photos of these gatherings, but they are not necessary for me to remember the wonderful times we had. My mind can play short videos and I am right back there:

- My older cousin brought his new girlfriend (today his wife of fifty years), and I can still see the blanket billowing in the breeze as he carefully spread it on the lawn, and her standing next to him, looking every bit the princess he made her feel.

- One year my parents, sick of raking a million oak leaves, cut down a bunch of trees, leaving the stumps behind. A younger, very energetic cousin went into the back yard and ran from stump to stump, standing on each one and proclaimed himself “King of the Stumps.”

- Even before Jaws came out, a cousin had us young ones all squealing and swimming into each other, water splashing over the side of the pool in buckets. He was pretending to be a shark, and a very convincing one at that.

My youngest cousin recently turned fifty and had an intimate party in a rustic barn. It was a thrill to see cousins scattered about the room, our ancestry carrying forward. I can see an aunt’s smile, an uncle’s height, our grandfather’s eyes, and characteristics of my own parents. They are a product of the many generations before them, and I share that heritage.

I sat with the Stump King and his lovely wife and heard stories of their daughter attending college in Scotland. Their son told me about his job in the finance industry and looking at his face as he spoke, I was transported thirty years earlier to when I saw that same young face on his father.

The passage of time doesn’t affect cousin love. I have six cousins who live in Nova Scotia and we have seen each on-and-off, yet when we do, we are connected. The sound of a puzzle piece being clicked into place is heard, and we are complete. We make up the portrait of our family; siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents and so on, gathered together, wearing expressions of pure joy (some with a raised left eyebrow).

Which brings me to my heavenly family and my relationship with God. Sometimes I find it hard to connect with God because he is so big. It’s difficult to wrap my head around His absolute love for me. It is something I cannot touch or see, and it can be hard to feel. It is elusive.

Then I am reminded that I have His DNA, we are of the same bloodline. My traits are His traits. My ancestry can be traced all the way back to Him. He is the foundation of my life. Spending time with God nurtures our relationship and our love grows.

Hmmm. DNA, bloodline, nurturing? Sounds a lot like cousin love and that I understand. I have felt it’s touch and seen it looking back at me. It is tangible. Though it is not close to the love God has for me, cousin love helps me better understand, and feel, God’s all-encompassing, unending love. And, it is comforting to know that no matter how much time has passed, God and I can always pick up where we left off.