Here’s the plan.
When it comes to siblings and cousins … the plan is to stick to weather and sports as a mutual conversation.
And keep those to a consistent level of regular infrequency.
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So, when engaged:
- Don’t talk family.
- Don’t talk work.
- Don’t talk personal projects.
Unless it’s an emergency, just don’t.
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This need not be diffcult.
I mean, we walk a diplomatic walk with people at work, don’t we?
So, why not extend the same courtesy to people who share your DNA?
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As it stands today, my siblings and cousins are not my friends.
That’s not to say we are bad.
No one in my family is a bad person. We may be insenstive, but we are not bad people.
[ 4 years ago I asked my cousin if he wanted to join me in Ireland to go to another cousin’s wedding. His reponse was: Are you nuts? You obviously need therapy. Why would I spend any time off with you when I can spend it with my daughter and wife? ]
Ouch.
I meant no offense. We went to Paris together and to beaches and helped set up his wedding. I thought it would be fun to do another trip.
I never intended it be an exclusion of Lanney and Milly. I just got caught up in the idea and thought it sounded fun and cultural interesting.
Anyway, I was never forgiven for asking what even now I consider a clueless question, and we have not had the same relationship since.
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It’s just that when comes to siblings and cousins, after the age of sneaking those first beers with them and backpacking around a foreign country, they are now conduits to my parents, and poor story tellers of my past.
And the reason for this is simple.
Well, simple now.
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Because a majority moved onto raising new people. Which means balancing budgets. Visiting pharmacies often. Doing homework, again. Cleaning gutters. Trying to be civil to their mates. Wondering if the toilet upstairs is overflowing, again. Clipping coupons.
Oh, and harbouring a mixture of resentment and amazement for our parents who did the same, with more kids.
That’s life. Every. Single. Day.
And any extra space inside is reserved for those to kindly shut the f**k up or repair that running toilet.
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This came clear to me recently, like three weeks ago, with my own brothers.
Upon reflection though, I’ve been learning this lesson for the last 20 months.
Zero to Sixty doesn’t even begin to explain the level of miscommunication we all have experienced with each other, in all directions. And, like with my cousin, Grace appears to not be an option.
Me? I just assumed it was a bad day.
Sigh.
When it comes to family dynamics, I wear rose coloured glasses.
Sorry.
Correction.
Wore.
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So, my plan with my brothers and cousins is to stay in a family-friendly lane filled with rain shower forecasts and the next big championship match.
I’ll spare thoughts that extend beyond Lionel Messi to friends I picked in my life, not for those I inherited at birth.
I can hear my Irish Twin mumble: Finally. And my Brother Joe say: DUH.
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For sure it helps that I’m a big fan of sport.
I’m just sorry that I didn’t stumble upon this 5 years ago. It would have radically reduced the steep learning curve that stands in front of me.
Happy Saturday.