Just a train ride away
Part 5 A long overdue reunion
You've Got Mail is one of my favorite movies. I love the scene where Joe Fox (played by Tom Hanks) describes his family dynamics to Kathleen Kelly (played by Meg Ryan.) Annabelle Fox and Matthew Fox are children in this scene.
Annabelle Fox: Oh, that's not my Dad. That's my *nephew*.
Kathleen Kelly: You know, I don't really think that HE could be your nephew.
Joe Fox: No, no, no, it's true. Annabelle is my - *aunt*. Isn't that right, Aunt Annabelle?
Annabelle Fox: Uh-huh, and Matt is his...
Kathleen Kelly: Oh wait, wait, wait, let me guess. Are you his uncle?
Matthew Fox: No.
Kathleen Kelly: His grandfather?
[Matt giggles as he shakes his head]
Kathleen Kelly: His great-grandfather?
Matthew Fox: [laughing] I'm his brother!
Joe Fox: [answering Kathleen's very confused look] Matthew is my father's son, Annabelle is my *grandfather's* daughter. We are... an American family.
I can relate. My half-sister Sharon is my father's first daughter. Sharon meets my mother's half-brother Jim when she is 18 and I am 5. They fall head over heels in love and marry three months later. If you do the math, here's how it plays out.
Sharon is both my sister and my aunt. Jim is my uncle and my brother-in-law. Their children are my nieces and my cousins.
And yes, Joe/Tom, I can relate; we are… an American family.
My sister has three children, Margie, Debbie and Wendy. Like Annabelle Fox, I become an aunt when I am six years old. Although I don't recall much from that age, I imagine I feel pretty darn big for my britches, an aunt, even if I don't truly understand the title.
I vividly remember the visits I have had with Sharon's family over the years and how much they all embraced me as "Aunt Suzy." There isn't even a thought that I might be considered a cousin. I am their aunt, even if I am only six years older than my first niece, Margie. They all make me feel elevated and very loved.
On day three of our trip, RuthANN is kind enough to let us use her car while she stays behind, watches after her grandson, catches up on work, and gets ready for an upcoming move. Rick and I travel over the Portland Bridge to Ridgefield, Washington to meet Sharon and "the gang" at the Jubilee Tea House. Our group this day consists of Sharon, my nieces Margie, Debbie, and Wendy, along with Margie's girls, Kristen and Jordan, and Wendy's daughter-in-law Graci, who is pregnant with a little girl whose name will be Eloise May. I've seen numerous photos of their prior tea parties online and always yearn to join them.
I arrive feeling much like that five-year-old little girl, anxious to see my “big sister” along with my nieces. It’s been fifteen years since I’ve seen them. The waitress leads Rick and me to a row of small tables filled with women, my women.
Growing up with three sisters and only girl cousins, Rick fits in without trying, and even manages to remember everyone’s name.
I see Sharon at the far table with an empty seat next to her— my spot. We say all there is to say without words— a long hug with tears— after which I slide in next to Sharon under the pink and white camellias and our chatter begins. She shares with me fond memories of walking with me down our sleepy little main street in San Bruno, pretending that I was hers. I study her face as she speaks. The years have been kind to her. Her striking white hair enhances those beautiful blue eyes that I love so well.
Pink flowers also adorn our table along with white dishes and a black teapot. We begin with soup, and soon thereafter the sweet and savory delicacies arrive.
Unfortunately the tables are arranged lengthwise along the wall which makes it difficult to converse with anyone other than Rick, Sharon, Wendy and Margie. I worry that I won't have an opportunity to visit with Debbie much or my great nieces or Wendy's new daughter-in-law. I do my best to take in their mannerisms, the apparent ease amongst them, the smiles and camaraderie. And in the end, I remind myself that what matters most is that I'm here.
As we sip tea and work our way through the variety of sandwiches, fruits, cakes and scones, we chat about the simplest things, much like we would if we did this frequently.
As the tea party comes to a close, we gather in the gift shop. The owner takes our photos and reminisces about the many years they have been patrons. I smile inwardly grateful to finally be surrounded by these amazing women.
Leaving the tea shop, Debbie suggests visiting a local nursery. Her sister Margie comments that Debbie doesn't garden. We chuckle and follow them nonetheless. It becomes a humorous adventure, as the small nursery isn’t what Debbie envisioned. The saving grace, though, is as we pull into the parking lot, we spy two bald eagles in the field. Everyone excitedly gathers to take photos.
Many spiritual traditions see the bald eagle as a messenger between the earthly and spirit worlds. In some Native American cultures, the bald eagle is considered sacred and is often associated with healing, vision, and power. It’s believed that seeing a bald eagle is a sign that someone is watching over you. -wikiHow
I have no doubt that our ancestors are watching over us. I also believe that our visits are healing for all of us.
After the nursery, we head back to Sharon’s, where we spend the afternoon relaxing and talking with Sharon, Margie, Debbie, and Jordan. Having spent so little time together, I soak in the details as they share stories of their day-to-day lives.
As this delightful afternoon all too quickly draws to a close, Rick and I journey back to RuthANN's where a wickedly enjoyable evening awaits us. We’ll all be together again the following day when we visit Ole Bolle, Portland’s giant troll.
Thank you so very much for your lovely comments on this series. I’ll be back next week with Part 6.
You all look like a wonderful bunch. :).
LOL!