Family

My cousin is the last of his family.  His dead brother's wife has two boys so I guess he has nephews.  But, his mother, my aunt Bea, died of complications from diabetes. I imagine he looks at me and remembers her struggles, especially if I'm complaining about my aches and pains. His mother's mother died of the disease, too, only much later after ten years in a coma caused by a stroke caused by the diabetes. I believe he thinks of her when I mention how cheerful and fun I try to be around my grandson.  She was my grandmother.

Due to estrangement in his family he does not see his nephews. He does not see his mother's sister.  She called him queer once and he won't forgive her. She is my Aunt. I see my Aunt around town and she reminds me of my grandmother.  She looks like her as I remember her when I was a child. My cousin and I can both remember my grandmother as she was, full of life, healthy and laughing. We share memories.

My cousin was the middle child and he spent his years caring for his mother in her illness. His older brother was a broken bum consumed by alcoholism . His younger brother was the fairest and brightest of the clan. He was the star of his High School, strong in Sports, handsome. A college scholarship and professional baseball career were ended with the onset of schizophrenia when he was twenty-two. His life was troubled and tragic.

My cousin and I spend time together.  He's helping me clean my garage, fix a fence, and add molding to my ceilings. He has lived the last ten years alone after his mom died.  He prides himself on living off the grid in a cabin on fifty acres up in the forest with no electricity, It's his land although he worries he might lose it because he sometimes has to let the taxes slide into the next year. He is beholden to no one and proud.

When I first came here six years ago he was a hermit.  He never came to town and had few acquaintances. My sister and I visited him and his dog. He talked slowly and quietly while we were more animated and intrusive. We worried that he had no cell phone to call for help.  'No service up here anyway', he'd say.

Melvin, can you help us with the roof, the car, the trim in the kitchen?  Yes, he always replied.  Yes, although his truck could barely make the trip and the money we could afford to pay him barely covered the gas for it. Yes, he'd come down unless he was snowed in. Laconic, taciturn, he would stand and await instruction. He was ready to be molded into whatever we needed.

My sister and I fretted over him.  How could we help him? What did he need? Was he really happy? We devoted long talks between ourselves about what we could do to help Melvin. He began to come in more regularly to help with projects.  Monday and Tuesday he'd be in.  Wednesday he had the Food Bank so he wasn't available.  Thursdays and Fridays he'd be at the door by 10 and leave at 4:30 so he could  be home before dark.

In the winter we'd struggle up the mountain to make sure he hadn't succumbed to the cold. His solar panels didn't work too good when it was overcast. It was hard to tell if he was happy to see us.  His scraggly beard did not allow a glimpse of a smile, or frown. Sometimes he just stood and we weren't sure if we were intruding. Then, he would start to talk and share the old stories.  Our childhood stories, clamming at the beach, killing chickens for Grandma's Sunday dinner, listening to the old radio in her kitchen.

We share those stories. Sometimes his eyes light up and he smiles. There are details he knows that we don't. Remember the big Rhodies at the top of Baseball Hill?  They're over one hundred years old. Remember the garden Grandma planted in back of the laundry?  And, the two hundred hens she bought that summer from the hatchery. Her trees had  the best Sour Cherries ever. remember? And, we do.

Mel? I say, I'm really glad I came to live here. Sharon, he says quietly, if you hadn't come, I'd be dead now.

I'm quiet, waiting...

"After Mom died I was so alone, and I guess depressed.  I didn't call it that but it hurt awfully bad. When I sold her house I had enough money to buy my place, so I did.  It was a dream of mine to live off the grid. I had what I wanted,or what I thought I wanted. But, I felt suicidal. I was counting on not being around very much longer. And, then you came, and kept coming up to see me. You two worried about me. Me? I didn't ask for you to get in my life but I can see it is better now. In fact, I resented it. Now, look at me. Five years later and we had my birthday, ate Thanksgiving together, and we're planning a trip. It's really a big change. And, you stuck with it even though I wasn't very happy at first."

Of course we did, Mel. We're family.