Family

I was reading Chaz's Vegas blog. Chaz is a natural poet, flowing through his thoughts and memories, I love it. Reading about how he hadn't seen his family in so long made me think about how I hadn't seen mine in so long. Not ten years, but it has been three. I knew it would be like this, as I got older, harder to get to California to see everyone. The green, steep hills (you've never seen a real hill until you have been in Northern California), happy cows grazing, wind turbines twirling, the bluest sky I've ever seen. Power lines, traffic, salt water and smog in my nostrils and on my tastebuds, fresh everything, stucco and tile, and warmth like a natural sweater. The thing I like the most about California, though, is my family.

I have eight cousins, and I am the oldest. That means all my aunts and uncles, my grandpas and grandma, have all known me the longest. It means I have been alive for every birth of my cousins, and my brother. I was the first to do everything, and for whatever reasons, these all add up to such a strong tie with everyone to me. And I love that. I love that everyone misses me when I can't get to California with my mom or dad or brother. It feels good to be missed. But I am sick of missing everyone. I am aching to see my family.

Uncle Doug and Aunt Cindy, Johnny, and Dougie; Uncle Ray and Aunt Chevelle, Jarrett, Allison, Melissa, Eric; Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Tanya, Cal, Cody; and Uncle Steven. Plus Grandpa Stevenson and Louise, who I haven't seen in a long time either. And of course Grandma and Grandpa Hope, my dad, Lois, Eric, Rena, my mom, and Leland. My family. And Steven has only met one set of my grandparents, outside of my nuclear family. I really want Steven to meet these people who are so important to me. To see the land that is so magical, and feel this thing I can't explain, my family in Caliland.

I hope this happens soon. I can't wait to stand porcelein white against my tan family again.