visitors and reflections

Three of my cousins came to visit this weekend. It is something that has been planned for just over a month now. I was excited to see them... but their visit caused me to reflect a lot on where I am and who I am right now.

These cousins (all sisters) are on my dad's side of the family... and while I love them dearly, this was one of our first opportunities to really sit down and talk and get to know each other. Sounds odd... but its true. They are all married with kids... and they seem so happy and content with their lives, I was impressed and overjoyed for each of them.

They kept me up all night Saturday... (definitely not something I can repeat again) but the laughter was genuine and the stories were great. One of the cool things about being a grown up, is being able to reflect on who people were in their childhood (and yours) and get to know the adults that they have become.

My cousins are fascinating women. I don't say that lightly because I know a lot of women -- and honestly, not all of them are fascinating. lol... But even though I looked at them last night and still saw their cute faces as kids... as I looked in the faces of truly grown women with their own life experiences (good and bad)... I marveled at how wonderful family can be. In all phases of its own craziness.

I learned a lot about them, and so of course I reflected on myself as I reviewed the weekend in my mind.

I am a brat. And I don't say that lightly either. I realized that sensitivity runs in the family, as does a slight hardness that isn't often attributed to women. We all had varying degrees of both. I realized that complaining about your mother's infinite ways of driving you crazy... is a family trait -- but I also learned that its not really that true.

I listened to my cousins joke and laugh about the ways that their mother (my auntie) drives them crazy. As my own mother sat there with us, trying to defend mothers everywhere.... I had to laugh because I was the only woman in the room with no husband and no kids. So, the perspective was interesting to me.

I am famous for complaining about my mom. And what's wild is that I love her so much... I cannot articulate the feelings adequately. I would fight for my mother... to the death if necessary. I would carry my mother on my back if I had to, to save her from any harm. But even with all that... there is a "thing" that some mothers and daughters have... that is just... well, tense sometimes.

One cousin commented that her mom would come to her home and wash her dishes... and then go back to her home and make remarks that she had to wash the dishes at her daughter's home. I had to laugh... but she was so tense about it that it wasn't that funny. No matter how much we tried to convince her that her mom's comments were trivial at best, and probably easily ignored, she continued to plead her case. I sat there... wondering if my "mom triggers" were equally as trivial.

Yep. They are.

I think that there is something that happens in some households -- won't say all -- that forever bond and cement a certain emotional reaction between a child and a parent. For me, it is the comparison to a "bad kid"... because I always felt that I was a good kid, who didn't get enough credit for just being good. (Now, as an adult, I understand and believe that giving credit for things you're supposed to do... is craziness... but as a kid, I just wanted a break)

I tossed in a story about how it used to drive me bananas that my mother would see something on television or hear a story about some wayward badass kid... and immediately launch into..."If Nikki ever did that... I would break her back". For some reason, well into my adulthood, the thought of being compared to some hideous, ungrateful child just would anger me, sometimes would send me into a real rage.

Silly right? Yep. Told you, I am a brat.

But I did not get past that until recently. It finally dawned on me that my mother's exclamations had little to do with me at the present moment in time... but on her reflections of her own time with me as my mother. When she looks at me, I believe, she sees me on a continuum of sorts. She looks at me at 39 and she can still see me from the day I was born, my first day of school, my first period, my first date, the first day of college... and so forth. But she sees all of these Nicoles... at the same time.

As a non-parent, I find that incredible. I also found it incredible that one person on the planet can see all of me -- just like that. Without a blink. So awesome. (by the way, I'm sure dads have that same super-ability)

As I sat up until 4am with my cousins... I realized that I have that same ability. I looked at them at 35, and 28 and I could see them as small toddlers, angry teens, beautiful young women... all at the same time. And I was really proud of who they decided they wanted to be.

I wasn't sure if I would be able to handle the visit of a group of people at one time. I wasn't sure if it would wipe me out -- it did. But it was worth the fatigue and the day long nap I had to take today... to learn that examples of strength, courage and an ability to get back up... are as close as a phone call or an email to North Carolina.

It was an awesome weekend. :) Thanks fam. And thank you Gwendolyn, for loving me... every day.