"Are you a Catholic?"
"No, a sloppy Protestant."
Humor circa 1965 or 1966, just at the time when my mother might have possibly, just possibly, been coming up for air after having given birth to five kids in six years and four months. Exactly.
She is not sloppy in any way, including religion. So it probably comes as no surprise that she has several siblings. And that, between the four sisters, there are 18 children. [It would have been more, but the youngest sister possibly became socially conscious and stopped after one child. Or perhaps that cousin of mine is the most difficult in the bunch. I joke.]
The four sisters are pretty close, and they've been finding excuses for celebrating milestone birthdays over the past several of years which have enabled this long-lost cousin to meet up with fellow long-lost cousins whom I've not seen in, no shit, 40 years.
Can I just say that it is has been an unbelievably fabulous thing for me to meet people like me, people whom I couldn't have picked out of a line-up, who are SO me. [Here's hoping that's not too much of an insult to some of them.]
The older I get, the more insignificant I begin to feel in the general scheme of the universe. The past 48 hours has shown me that, although we are all infinitesimal in that general scheme, at least we are a part of something.
Even if that something is the Porters.