
hen
I was a kid I used to sneak into an old carved box my grandmother kept at the
back of her closet. In it she kept mementos of her childhood on the plains
of Kansas. Old costume jewelry and photographs of oddly dressed men with
odder haircuts and moustaches. There was an occasional tintype portrait of
a sweet looking woman or a very stern young man. Here and there was a
letter written in the most beautiful violet colored ink written in the most
florid handwriting imaginable. I could look at each and every item and
imagine the faraway world from which they drifted into the present.
It seemed impossible that those unknown faces had any bearing at all on my life,
but I loved guessing who they might be, or where they had gone. As I got
older, and braver, I asked my grandmother about the people in those
photos. One day she sat me down and began to explain:
"This is my daddy. He married my mother in Norcatur Kansas…."
And so forth. I got her to write down a bit of information on the back of
some of the photos, something I am incredibly grateful for today.
I think I wasn't the only one who shared the call of the old box in the closet,
or the boxes of keepsakes stored in the garage. My cousins, who to this
day I still include when I use the phrase "my family" grew up along
side my brother and sister and I. At times we ended up living with them,
and other times they lived with us. There was never a very long period
growing up that we were apart. I don't remember if we all shared the
secrets of that old box at the time, but eventually it was bound to string us
all together again.
My cousin Debbi was always my
favorite. Of course when she and I were teens we drifted apart. She went
to Panama with a military guy and I went to College, and later to live in
London. Our grandmother died. Things got divided up. Years passed and I
drifted even further away until my sister died...
"Anyway, life continues and
I always think the best way to honor those we love who have gone is to try and
do the best we can, be as honest as we can to ourselves, and as kind as we
can to each other." ~Dennis

hen
Janice got sicker, and we all tried to locate Dennis, I knew I could track him
down, I put my all into the task, and he re-entered our lives.
Dennis has always been my favorite, and we always seem to connect. Family
has always been our glue. No matter what, who, or when, we are family and
here on these pages is the lot of us. ~debbi