My little students often refer to their cousins as sisters and brothers. At first I thought it was weird but I now totally understand it. Sometimes your cousins feel more like siblings than anything else.
My cousin and I were born a little over a month apart. Our moms, who were best friends, were pregnant at the same time and our fathers were brothers. Until my sister was born, a year and a half later, she was the only sibling I had and we grew up together–the three of us–until we were ten years old. We pretty much wore the same clothes, had the same toys, lived literally across the street from each other (we could wave at each other from the window if we chose to), went often to the same school and even the same class, and spent most of our weekends and vacations together.
Then my aunt and uncle immigrated to Canada and at the age of ten we were separated by an ocean. I remember the day she left clearly, how I was torn inside and even as a child I realized that it’s easier to leave than to stay behind. Ahead there was a whole new and hopefully exciting life for her, for me it was going home and not being able to look across the street without wanting to cry.
Fast forward almost fifty years with sporadic visits in between (we visited them in Canada a few times, they came to Portugal a couple of times) and very little communication otherwise (the odd letter, a phone call here and there) imagine my surprise when she tells me she’s moving back to Portugal with my elderly uncle. I was beyond excited. Despite the time and the distance my feelings for my cousin had not changed. She was still my sister even if I knew little about her life for the past few decades and I couldn’t be more thrilled she’d be in Portugal when I visited my mom and sister.
Unfortunately, the pandemic hit right after they moved and even more tragically my uncle passed away before I could come visit. We began planning for a Golden Girls’ vacation. We would rent a place by the ocean and spend a few days there altogether. It became a running joke between us.
Two years ago as the pandemic started to fade away, I got to go visit but our plans for a Golden Girls’ vacay was not possible. Most vacation rentals were still under pandemic restrictions and a few days before our trip my mom was stricken with sudden deafness which caused her to not be able to even stand by herself, much less walk. It was a vacation of doctors’ visits and looking for solutions. But I did get to be with my cousin who now lived an hour and a half away from Lisbon. And for that I was very grateful.
It was not all doom and gloom. We got to visit a place I had always wanted to see and where one of my books was set. It was a lovely outing in Sintra, one of my happy places, and even though we were much older and heavier, it felt as if we were kids again, discovering the magic in this wonderful world of ours.
Last year, I finally got to rent a beautiful place with an amazing view of the ocean and thought we would get our Golden Girls moment. But alas, life has a tendency to surprise us and not always in the best way. We barely saw each other, but the few hours we did only reenforced my feelings toward her: she was still my heart sister.
This year I didn’t make any plans other than just hanging out with family and enjoying the good food and the sunshine. After a tough year at work, plus family issues, I was full of anxieties and needed to unwind. So when our Uber pulled up in front of my mom’s condo building and I hear, not one but two voices yelling out a greeting, I couldn’t believe it. There she was, my cousin/sister, waving at us from the window. It was the best surprise ever. I’m not sure I had the chance to tell her how happy it made me. I will always savor that moment as an amazing memory.
Later she joined me and my sister at the Feira do Artesanato and that was another great day, walking around and shopping. Great memories that I will never forget.
I’m so fortunate to have not one amazing sister but two, and as I get older those ties become that much more important. It makes me happy to think that she will be there next year when I visit again and that despite all these years apart we’re still the three Golden Girls.
Next year it will be even better. Just wait!
