Listening to “6th Avenue Heartache“ on repeat. You know that one. Bob Dylan’s son sings it.
“I got my fingers crossed on a shooting star.”
Yeah yeah, don’t we all. Just kidding, I don’t know what that means.
I saw some cousins I hadn’t seen in at least 15 years last night. My aunt and uncle rented an AirB&B somewhere… up Midway, past the CareNow where I had my COVID test. I love my sense of direction. I don’t even know what ”part of Dallas” it actually bordered. North Dallas?! ANYWAYS…
I rode with my mom and Miles, who fell asleep in the car. It made me sad. The damn seizure medication knocks him out. He’s had 2 more seizures in the last 2 weeks. He got a nasty bruise on his neck as a souvenir. It’s this long brown/red line. It looks like someone tried to strangle him.
I genuinely wish it was me having seizures and not Miles. Ugh. He’s a ticking time bomb. Or more of a ticking time bomb then he used to be. It sucks and there’s not much else to say about it. I hope it gets better, but it getting worse is also a possibility. And you know what? We just have to sit with either outcome.
Anyways, these relatives popped into town because one of my cousin’s sons is graduating from high school. Well… he did today.
I remember meeting him as a baby. I was 12. There’s this picture of me playing with him and my legs are spread in this unnatural, spider-like position. I don’t know these relatives well. I did notice that my cousins has consistently kept the same face over 18 years.
“Time flies, it is crazy, my how fast they grow up”, and you know the rest. Pick your favorite. (Personally, I hate them all.)
I never know how to behave around relatives I’m not extremely close to. It’s not that I don’t care about or enjoy them. They cuss a little, which is always refreshing (and oddly relaxing).
One of my cousins asked if I was a radical feminist and I kinda went blank because I wasn’t sure what the right answer was supposed to be. (In truth, I am.) I gave a lukewarm answer before I realized what the RIGHT answer was, and that is a quintessential example of what I mentioned in the last paragraph.
I started crying JUST A LITTLE the last 20 minutes around the dinner table before we left, for reasons I’d rather not disclose. I hope it wasn’t obvious and that it looked like a contact lens problem or eye irritation. Then I cried the car ride home and this afternoon laying on the couch, leftover graduation celebration brownie in hand.
I’m going to lunch at Maggiano’s Little Italy for the final graduation send-off. I’m not sure I’ve ever eaten there, but Google is telling me they don’t have pizza. Does that make it more “real Italian,” or “Fake Italian?” (Maybe Dominos sucked all of the class out of pizza.)
My cousins, aunt, and uncle are all really strong, pleasant, supportive people that I’m lucky to know, even though it’s in a mild way. You can tell they care about us. The feeling is mutual. Better than having hillbilly trash cousins. Or stuck up little you-know-whats.
Lucky to love and be loved.
We’ll see how the rest of the weekend goes.
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