A murder of crows, a confusion of cousins
Jun. 25th, 2009 11:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kitewithfishOne of the other things about moving to Chicago is the sudden increase of cousins.
My nuclear family is a lone outpost on the East Coast- my mother's sister lives in California still, her mother in New Mexico until the last four years, and my father's family all stayed in Illinois, if not Chicago proper.
As a result, the concept of cousins that you saw on a regular basis was generally linked to the Townies in the places where I was living, wherever that might be at the time. Most of the suburbs where I've lived have existed as towns for a long damned time, but grew much larger in the last thirty or forty years. There was a distinct subculture of people whose families had lived in the same town for generations, and they were the people whose cousins showed up in high school at the same time as them.
Whereas, most of the other people had family that lived really far away- sometimes as far as India or Taiwan. Cousins were seen at most yearly, and for my family often far less. My mother and her sister maintained contact, but often it was in the form of regular phone calls and sending one of my siblings to California to visit. I never went to California on my own- I'm not really sure why, though it may have had something to do with my dislike of Southern California's climate.
But moving to Chicago contains a distinct hint of moving back as opposed to moving to. Suddenly, my father's (much larger) family has taken up a far closer position to me than ever before, and there are lots of them. And they all have relationships with each other spanning years and years of being near neighbors and visiting at holidays and taking an interest in and care of each other's children. I have this sudden new identity of cousin/niece, with all the rights, responsibilities and privileges attached thereto, and it's kind of surprising. People who I have not seen in six years or more have offered to help me move in to my apartment. And help me shop for second hand furniture. Or just come and fetch me if I get lost in the city at night. It's both very welcoming- I was kind of afraid of moving away from Boston and my college and having to find a new set of friends- and a little weird (who are these people and why have they all instantly decided that they need to take care of me?)
My dad was the only one to move away from Chicago for any length of time. And here I am, coming back, possibly for just a short period, and possibly for a long stay, and possibly forever. And suddenly, I have a whole lot of backup.
My nuclear family is a lone outpost on the East Coast- my mother's sister lives in California still, her mother in New Mexico until the last four years, and my father's family all stayed in Illinois, if not Chicago proper.
As a result, the concept of cousins that you saw on a regular basis was generally linked to the Townies in the places where I was living, wherever that might be at the time. Most of the suburbs where I've lived have existed as towns for a long damned time, but grew much larger in the last thirty or forty years. There was a distinct subculture of people whose families had lived in the same town for generations, and they were the people whose cousins showed up in high school at the same time as them.
Whereas, most of the other people had family that lived really far away- sometimes as far as India or Taiwan. Cousins were seen at most yearly, and for my family often far less. My mother and her sister maintained contact, but often it was in the form of regular phone calls and sending one of my siblings to California to visit. I never went to California on my own- I'm not really sure why, though it may have had something to do with my dislike of Southern California's climate.
But moving to Chicago contains a distinct hint of moving back as opposed to moving to. Suddenly, my father's (much larger) family has taken up a far closer position to me than ever before, and there are lots of them. And they all have relationships with each other spanning years and years of being near neighbors and visiting at holidays and taking an interest in and care of each other's children. I have this sudden new identity of cousin/niece, with all the rights, responsibilities and privileges attached thereto, and it's kind of surprising. People who I have not seen in six years or more have offered to help me move in to my apartment. And help me shop for second hand furniture. Or just come and fetch me if I get lost in the city at night. It's both very welcoming- I was kind of afraid of moving away from Boston and my college and having to find a new set of friends- and a little weird (who are these people and why have they all instantly decided that they need to take care of me?)
My dad was the only one to move away from Chicago for any length of time. And here I am, coming back, possibly for just a short period, and possibly for a long stay, and possibly forever. And suddenly, I have a whole lot of backup.
