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...they make me think too much.
Back in October, I bounced over the birth of my youngest cousin, Ceilidh. This Sunday, I attended Ceilidh's christening. It was odd to see the contrast between the members of Ceilidh's family and the families of the other babies. Ours was definitely the loudest and biggest family there. All nine of her first cousins were in attendance, ranging in age from two to thirteen. Most of the other families didn't have any other kids along.
I watched them chasing around my aunt (their grandma)'s house afterwards. Ceilidh is going to grow up like my brothers and I - separated from the bulk of her first cousins by a seven hour plane ride. And like my first cousins, the current generation all live within an hour of each other, see each other at least once a week and some of them are even in the same class.
I know that I'm still inordinately close to my family. I can rhyme off my aunts, uncles and first cousins on both sides. On my Mum's side I can go on to tell you all my second cousins, as well as a good deal of my third cousins. With the exception of a few of the youngest second cousins, I've met them all. If I ever get married, the number of people I'll feel obliged to at least invite is rather staggering.
I don't know if my kids will be as connected to their family. People that know me know I suck at keeping touch, even though I do love knowing what everyone's up to. I'd love to "go back home" and visit Scotland again, but I hate imposing on people. The more I let that stand in the way the longer it'll be before I see the rest of my family.
Ceilidh was baptised in a white garment that has been used in baptisms in my mother's family since 1892. Eleven people present at that ceremony had been baptised in it. Aunt Margaret even has a picture of my Great Aunt Sis, the baby for whom the garment was made. Will we have traditions as long-standing?
Always feel kind of... insufficient after these. *sigh*
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