525,600 minutes ago we made a decision
To take someone into our home—a boy, a kid, a young man

He arrived on a Thursday in August. There were balloons and signs and he brought us gifts and we didn’t expect it and we were overwhelmed.

That weekend, my husband and son left for a fishing trip. Our Swiss son (as he as now know throughout thee world) would have to stay with me. And what did I have planned? My sisters baby shower. So he attended. I tried to make it seem like it was normal for him to be there.

Swiss son then met the entire family – my sister, my dad, my best friends, my cousins, my aunts everyone was there. It was a celebration of life. And he was celebrating right along with us, even though he didn’t know us.

Then, life happened. There was school and parties and love and heartbreak. There was snow and sun. There was laughter and tears. And most recently, there was death

My father’s cousin Pauline passed away, she was only 65. We packed up the family, Swiss kid included, and drove to the southern suburbs.

The car ride gave us all time to talk. To think about our own mortality. To think about are expectations and our goals and the opportunities we miss.

At the funeral, Pauline’s 3 daughters were crushed. All three girls have young families. One of the saddest moments was when the 4 year old twins asked out loud at the church—why is grandma in there.

As is common in the Italian tradition, after the services we all met for lunch. The restaurant was a buzz with broken English, Italian, and the shouts of young children.
I saw 3 cousins who I haven’t seen in years
“Your Clara’s kids”
“No we’re Bernadette’s kids, Clara was our grandma. She took the tree of us in when our mom died during childbirth”

Ahhh… now it makes sense!
I have been told by my grandmother the story of how we came to live with her.
My parents were in no shape to take care of us. Their habits had drawn the attention of law enforcement and my grandparent felt it was only a matter of time until they were incarcerated. My mother’s parents wanted to take me, because I was potty trained, but felt they were unable to take in my sister, because she was so young. At first, my father’s parents thought that was a logical solution. Divide the responsibility. But it was Aunt Clara, as I was told, who insisted that sisters not be separated. She didn’t just say it, she knew it fist hand. She was in the process of raising three children; keeping a family together. She had wisdom and passed it on.

So here we are. My Swiss son has been full circle with this family.

Life
Death

And in between, all the love I could muster up to give.
He leaves Tuesday.
But the scar on my heart
to the right of what is good
And to the left of forever
...is him