August 4, 2019

The Summers reunion happened at a handsome old country club on a windy lake in, I think, Green Township. I met or was reacquainted with scores of cousins, second cousins, first cousins one removed on my mother’s side of the family. Plenty of kids, but no actual babies until Jonathan showed up with his beagle puppy. One first cousin once removed is Adonis. He works in a bar I passed on the way there, and it crossed my mind. . . but no. . . . In that crowd to say, “Well, I just published a new book that is getting sweet notices,” would have been difficult to contextualize. I picture them trying to think of the correct thing to say. Most of the talk was actually of various people’s tragedies and ailments, but everyone already knew the stories, so it was a community chirp, like birds in the trees, to keep the contact constant. Good time, but an odd time to me, something you see in movies but never quite feature for yourself. Good to see Linda and Jonathan, and Aunt Barbara maybe for the last time. I kept remembering experiences with her that she didn’t remember.

What was I doing while my family was learning one another? I was searching for THEM. THEY could not be found. This leaves me wildered and alone, but I do not regret it. To have found THEM would have been earthly bliss, and even the vain search was engaging.

Against all expectation, American got me home without incident.