Monday, August 13, 2007

Feeling Clannish

Behold Clan Wilson.

Four generations of it. The latest edition is less than a couple weeks; The eldest, 87. There are grandparents, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, cousins, brothers-and sisters-in-law and a fiancee or two, and a couple of friends of both sexes. They stem from the Wilson family tree, specifically, my father and his twin sisters, only one of whom, MaryBeth, is still around to enjoy the growth, the depth, the extent of it. There's an older Wilson brother's family not represented here, and neither my wife or my brother is here (though his wife and daughter are), but this was the scene Sunday at the "Wilson Twin" Reunion and Holey Board Tournament that lasted all day. Uncle George was in the restaurant game, and so the food was offered and consumed in copious amounts that never seemed to end. My father's side of the family is a hilarious band of ragamuffins, seriously unpretentious, who let fly with a great deal of honesty, humor and affection. We all rag on each other and laugh a lot.

And we play Holey Board, which is a tradition. Basically you throw elephantine washers at an astro-turfed encrusted wooden board with three holes in it (you can see it there on the lawn--I believe that was "Court 3" in the competition, there were eight in all). Everyone participates, ice is broken, and damn, if even the most disinterested in the outcome start getting a lit-tle competitive. Me and Cousin Lisa were one team. Final outcome: Won-2; Lost-2.

Sister-in-law Jane and niece Annie were able to come this year, and they fit right in. I think they might have been a little non-plussed to see what this side of my brother's family was like. I know when I first attended one of these soirees my Sister and I and my wife were welcomed with open arms, though we hadn't seen many of them in years. But it was an amazing feeling, walking into a room filled with people you could look at and know they had your DNA--the same eyes, jaw-lines, wolfish grins (and same pattern of baldness)--it was a feeling of belonging. I was told stories of my father when he was much younger and of his sense of the world, and his sense of humor (which I've talked about here). Aunt MaryBeth and her sister Catherine, were twin models who introduced my Mom to my Dad--actually they nagged my mother into going out with their brother. It didn't go all that well. Dad took her to see "Fantasia" at the movies, and when he asked her what she thought of it, she groused "Well, I've seen it be-FORE...," she being not the most encouraging of dates. Oh. The twins hounded my dad when he got home--"Well, did you kiss her?" "No," he said quietly. "But I'm going to marry her." True story.

Either my brother or I have Dad's old Navy cap from WWII, where taped inside were pictures of Mary and the twins as a reminder of love back home. As a family, the Wilson kids were really close, and everyone had a hand in the family I was born into. So, of course, I go to these reunions. My father died thirty years ago (is it really so long ago?), but he lives in the faces of my aunt and cousins. How can I miss him, when they live so close in proximity and familiarity. Our roots are deep.

Thanks to Mary A.Q.D. for getting the photo to me so fast!

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Next day Update: Got home last night about 9:00pm--ferry traffic to the Rock was fine, no prob, but coming back looked hellacious. Niece Kayla stayed overnight to get up early and drove right on a boat. She chose well.

After writing the above I went out to star-gaze. It's Perseid time in our neck of the Universe. Stood out for about 20 minutes in the light breeze and the almost total dark the Rock provides. Managed to see 3 meteors: a couple of short blasts that basically disintegrated, and then a nice long trail--it's like skipping stones, sometimes they sink before you get a good jumper. But it did bring back that same thought that I always get looking at the stars, and which Berkley Breathed cartooned so well last week.



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True-Life Adventures Update: The eagle, "Baby Huey" has left the nest. I repeat, "Baby Huey" has left the nest (Sure it only jumped to the next tree over, but, c'mon, how long has it taken you to fly?)

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