I'm going to break from my usual habit, and write a bit about my recent trip to Dayton to see various and sundry family members. First, it was good to see my parents, my sister and her husband, and many of my cousins, and my Uncle David. I was reminded, again, that coming from a large family has blessings as well as burdens. When the Johnston side of the family gets together there is always - ALWAYS - so much laughter at the end of the day one's stomach hurts.
I had occasion to go visit the gravesites of my grandparents, great-grandparents, uncles, an aunt, and my Uncle Eugene's step-daughter who died from leukemia in 1957. This was important for me, because it established my sense of rootedness. Prior to this, my sense of my Johnston-family relations was a little less grounded. The two Clark County, Ohio cemeteries were a reminder that this was a place that has my roots as much as rural Bradford County, Pennsylvania. For some reason that was and is important for me, especially as I live far from both areas, and am a bit less rooted in my life.
One thing I feel a need to comment upon is the fact that so much of our laughter seems to come at the expense of other relatives, which bothers my mother no end. She managed to say something to me about it, and it's a long-running commentary of hers. Of course, she was indignant over the fact that everyone in my father's family had nicknames, which she considered a form of belittlement. Part of our generation's laughter at the eccentricities of our uncles, aunts, and even one another comes from the reality that they are, indeed, eccentricities. The signs of deeper issues we pass over in silence. Instances of just plain oddity we share out of wonder, exasperation, and as a coping mechanism; at least to my mind, we aren't belittling their lives, their persons, or the fact that they loved us and cared for us. But, to be honest - to give an example - my Uncle David was a very large man in many ways, and I'm not surprised that my cousin Tom was a bit intimidated when he was suddenly grabbed by David, held close on David's lap, and had David bellow in his ear, "Tom, Tom, the piper's son!" Since David - and most of the rest of my mother's siblings - had only two volumes (loud and REALLY loud), I can imagine this as being both a bit frightening and a source of amusement later (especially as Tom tells it . . .).
The best thing of all for me about this trip was realizing that our generation of Johnstons, to whom a torch has been passed for loud, exuberant, and extremely enjoyable family gatherings has been passed, succeeded admirably in a first attempt (albeit truncated, as two of my sisters and my brother weren't present; we did well though, with my mother having replaced Aunt Lydia as the elderly matriarch overseeing it all). I look forward to future visits, so my cousins can get to know my wife and kids, in the near future.
In the meantime, Claudia, I'm going to teach myself Welsh.
