Family

     When I was young, the crowd I grew up in was large. We were very close to my Mother's brother's family. Their group had grandparents and cousins and five kids of Mom's brother, my Uncle Bud. And everybody loved and liked everybody else. We had everything in common. Church and friends and vacations and picnics and of course swimming. It was a blast. We grew up, of course, and went off in different directions and lots of us are dead. But it was fun and we were happy.
     When Jack and I moved to Virginia, we were all alone. We had visitors and family, but we were an exclusive group. The closest we came to family was with the Daubermans. They were here and alone like us. We at last had a familiar relationship.
      At this point in our life, as our children raise their families, we are lost. There is no relationship that we are ready to share. We just can't pull off what I had in my youth. Maybe it takes a brother and sister who want to share their lives.  Maybe it's just that Jack and I have not participated in much, by choice and now we don't know how.
     I do find myself envious of those families who can enjoy each other and have time for family and know what is important. I'm guilty. It's something I wish I wanted enough to get.  Hey, at least I had it once.