Cuz

On and off I've talked about our cousins here on this nearly obsolete blog.  But they were the sons of my mom's big brother and while we have some great memories and a closeness that's unlike most cousins, we also had cousins from my mother's older sister. 

We didn't get to see to my Uncle's sons that often, they lived in Alabama and we grew up in central Indiana.  

Mom's twin (my namesake) never had any children, but her older sister had four kids and they lived in my mom's small hometown.  We spent a lot of time with them, especially in the summer when we might stay with my grandmother for a week or two at a time and enjoy the sweet summer days.

My cousins lived an easy walk from my grandmother's house and so we spent a lot of time together as kids. 

And OHHH.  The stories we can tell.

My "youngest" big brother (CnC) turned 60 yesterday.  We had a very informal party at my house and on a whim I invited my cousin Kim who lived about an hour and a half away from us.

Kim was the youngest of all of my cousins, a good four years younger than me.  But we spent so much time together as kids, that we were very close growing up.  Their household was like nothing you can imagine.  It was the craziest, most bipolar household I have ever known.  You could stay all night and you never knew when you awoke if you would be laughing hysterically at the antics my aunt, uncle and cousins would pull or be cowering in the corner if the mood in the house would suddenly change.

I cannot see a Hot Wheels Track picture without remembering how the second oldest girl in the family used those sharp plastic suckers to whip the tar out of her brother.  Once when I was still laying in the hide-a-bed when she started out after her brother.  He fell on top of me trying to avoid the cobra like strikes coming from the mouth at the end of the plastic track which then meant any whiplash that missed him, hit me. 

Don't ask me why she began beating her younger brother.  I didn't question it at the time, it was just a routine bipolar relationship that we accepted of this wonderful, scary relationship we had with the entire family.

The oldest sister had ran off in the hippy days for months.  No one knew where she was.  When she returned, she moved back in the same house.

Late one night, my cousin Kim, her brother and I were playing some game in the what they called the rec room.  My aunt and uncle were asleep on the back side of the house.  Suddenly there appeared the oldest sister.  She began to scream at us at the top of her lungs, " SHUT UP.  You're going to wake up mom and dad."  I was struck at how loud she screamed versus our laughter and could imagine that her screaming could have created such seismic activity that she probably woke up my grandmother sleeping 1/4 of a mile away. 

Her brother, never learning when to keep his mouth shut to avoid some Abu Graib torture then yelled back, "Shut up you wild eyed drug addict."

Have I reiterated how much fun it was to stay all night with this family? 

With that accusation hanging in the air, his sister then went into full ISIS mode.  I could almost swear to you today that I could see these talons grow out of her fingertips and with a shriek that had my eardrums bleeding she grabbed ahold of my cousin and literally ripped the t-shirt off of his back.  I didn't even know that was possible until I watched it.

Of course the rest of the night was a complete blur, but for some reason I think we went back to playing the game as the rage had been expended.  God was in his heaven and all was right with the world

But here's the story that I thought of yesterday when my cousin Kim arrived at my house.  (I thought I wrote a post about this once, but can't find it now)

When we would stay all night at Grandma and Grandpa's house, we would sleep on a hide-a-bed in a room just off their front room.

Kim and I were still talking late one night, laying there giggling about something silly I'm sure, when we heard a car suddenly stop out front.  Within just a few seconds, not long enough for someone to get out of that car, we heard very distinct footsteps in the kitchen of the house.  Like a man's dress shoe footstep.  We were both frozen silent.  The sounds went through the kitchen and back around and then they stopped.  Within another couple of seconds, that car out front, who had been stopping there for the entire time for no apparent reason then took off. 

Both my grandparents were still asleep.  We both laid there, eyes wide open afraid to utter a word. 

A couple months ago, Kim and I met in Alabama at my aunt's funeral.  We haven't spent but a few hours together for 30 or 40 years now.  We brought up that night.  To this day we both distinctly remember the night in crystal clear detail and we, to this day cannot come up with a logical explanation as to where those noises came from and whether the car outside had anything to do with it.  There was no sound of any door opening or closing.

It still freaks us out somewhat since we both have it burned into our memory and we have no explanation of what those sounds were.

I have more crazy stories from this crazy side of my family, but I suppose those will have to wait for another day.