Sunday afternoon had pleasant Spring weather for the biggest family get-together in a while. I haven't been in this aunt's backyard since the height of physical distancing in 2020. Everyone was there including a cousin, recently located to Vancouver, who was coincidentally back in town; and the uncle, absent from these gatherings the last few years, whose sponsorship of his siblings and their families gave us all better lives. There were 2 no shows: an aunt whose level of pet ownership verges on alarming; and my grandma who stayed home due to aches and dizziness. I suspect that these pandemic years of house-bound isolation has given her a touch of agoraphobia. Though some of us made the 2-minute drive to visit her after dinner, her absence meant that the most complete family photo we ever took spanned only 3 generations and not 4.
First up were the family news. The peripatetic cousin left their high-paying Amazon job to found a start-up and also a pottery side-business. He was coding late into the night. Another cousin, perhaps startled by a brush with serious illness, came out to their parents. They seemed more comfortable adding queer-coded accessories to their wardrobe now. I was surprised that beneath the quiet exterior, they knew all the after-hour clubs and rave venues in Toronto and Montreal. As the years passed, I think some of my female cousins married duds. Stay single like me if you want to drift through life (also like me). But you have to help out with finances and domestic labour if you have kids. Finally, my oldest niece was accepted into Canterbury, an arts-focus high school. But this meant that my brother and his wife, who found the good life in the exurbs, will have to manage the hour-long commute.
The guest-of-honour was a cousin from the old country; her mother was the only one who stayed behind. Some 24 years ago, I met her as a child. Now she was a grown woman of 30 with an American beau in tow. Sunday was likely her one and only chance to see the distant family members. It was too bad then that my aunts and uncles monopolized her time. She exchanged a few words with us cousins and spent no time with the 6 nieces and nephews. The 97-year-old matriarch wasn't there but they had met when she flew in on Saturday.
Her paramour left no impression on me since he hardly spoke to anyone. He was voluble when it came to his postdoc research but was otherwise mum: no pleasantries or light conversation. This seemed hard ground to build on considering she would be moving halfway around the world, leaving behind family, friends, career, and native language. Up ahead was the alien landscape of car-centric California suburbs, a partner with a mere toe-hold in the precarious world of academia, and uncertain job prospects for herself. But as someone who has been unattached their entire life, I'm wholly unqualified to give romantic advice. Still, I remember my grandma's words about her courtship with my grandpa: "You can't choose who you love, but you can choose who you don't."