Been fighting it all week, the usual Christmas melancholy that I get. Seems like many of the tragedies in my life occurred around the holidays. So I'm opening the Christmas cards and see the one from my cousin. I read the letter.
She has cancer.
She sounds very upbeat, which is wonderful, but the news kinda socked me. She's only two years older than me. And then I realized how long it's been since I've seen my dad's side of the family. Too long. Next year. I promise, next year I'm going to take a trip and visit.
It's not that we were particularly close, like sisters, but hell, I loved visiting with my hip, sassy NY cousins. They were funny, witty and made me crack up. They grew up in the small house in Queens where my dad was born. My uncle still lives in it today.
Sigh... I wish I could get into the Christmas spirit, the cheerfulness and the general feeling of good will. I want to. But not this year. Maybe next...