A Tinkle in Time (with apologies to Madeleine L'Engle)

                
"You don’t know how lucky you are to be loved,” Meg said in a startled way, “I guess I never thought of that.  I guess I just took it for granted.” – A Wrinkle in Time
 
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We didn’t know it then, but it would be the last time we would all be together in this common joy, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandchildren, great-nieces, and great-nephews.  It was a reunion engineered by Cousin Marcia.  “Just cuz," she said.

We came from far and near toting car seats into the home where once we had been carried as babies ourselves.  Familiar voices slipped out of the house and onto the front porch as soon as the door swung open.  Inside, the table overflowed with favorite foods that smelled of home, prepared from cherished family recipes passed down for generations.  With every seat in the room already taken, our bottoms rested on the upholstered arms of chairs even as our own arms clung to the shoulders of people we had loved for a lifetime.  Out on the basketball court, just beyond the kitchen door, Cousin Tom lifted petite second-cousin Elizabeth onto his shoulders so she could dunk a basketball.

In this home, we first cousins were simultaneously young and old—children and grown-ups.  If the walls could talk, they would remember each of us.  Somewhere in this precious place, our childhood shadows were stuffed into drawers awaiting our returns.

Here, now, our children sat on the same porch steps, ran down the same long driveway, slammed the same doors, marveled at the same tiny bathroom under the stairs.  As my own children were being stirred into this love cocktail, my eyes surveyed the property that had once been a fantasy island:  the built in-swimming pool, a pasture where a horse had grazed, a play house, a basketball hoop, a tennis court. The ghost of a sleepy Lassie dog rested on the warm asphalt taking it all in too.  Inside the house, books lined the living room shelves and a piano occupied the space in front of the window.  This place had been our personal Magic Kingdom where every childhood interest had been encouraged.
 

                  “…the joy and love were so tangible that Meg felt that if she only knew where to reach
​                                 she could touch it with her bare hands.” – A Wrinkle in Time
 
  

Through the archway I saw into the family room where my mother sat illuminated by sunlight and memory.  The brilliant and beloved youngest of my grandmother’s many children, mom had a rare moment to be the center of attention.  A new generation became her enraptured audience hanging on to her every word.

This home belonged to our adored Uncle John and his wife, Aunt Janet.  Kind and unshakeable, generous, and a lover of gadgets and emerging technology, if he bought one new item, Uncle John bought nine—one for himself and one for each of his sisters and his brother.  Aunt Janet never complained. The latest miracle invention revealed on this Cousin Reunion Day was the hot air popcorn popper.   Even as the sun began to set, fluffy, fresh popped kernels rose from the machine’s spout, but even magical popcorn could not make the day last forever.  We loaded our cars in preparation for our departures, each of us believing that there would be more popcorn on a future day, that this was the first of many cousin reunions to come. We strapped ourselves and our children inside the vehicles that would rocket us to our homes in distant galaxies and far from this star where all of our lives began.

As we pulled away, Cousin Tom stood in the driveway holding a sign: “Does anyone have to tinkle?”  We left laughing at this reminder of Aunt Gen’s frequent and famous last words, a necessary question in an extended family where as many as 21 nieces and nephews might be traveling in a single pack.

Of course, we had all tinkled!  It was a life lesson not eliminated but retained, a lesson written in a family language for words too impolite to shout in public, a tutorial on self-care, being prepared, and showing consideration for others. 

As the procession of cars inched down the driveway, we looked back at this place that had been our sun.  We each had journeyed through space and time on many a quest.  Sometimes we returned to celebrate, other times, we returned to console.  And then the demands of life grew along with our families.  We never reconvened for another cousin reunion.  Now, I ask myself, “Where did the years go?”

It was all just a tinkle in time.
 

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