April 19, 2010 Family

It was a few weeks ago that I happen to be wasting some time on the internet and I stumbled upon a site that had deaths listed. I have for years tried to get a better understanding of my last name. My father had mentioned a number of times that it was shorted when my grandparents came to America from Chuhran to Churan. So I thought I would give that a shot on this site and as I have in other attempts found nothing. But while I was there, I started looking around at other family names and found that my Aunt Edna had died last year at the age of 88 while I was in the hospital.

Aunt Edna was not “officially” my aunt as she was married to my dad’s step brother, but I always considered her as an aunt, often visiting her in Florida when we would vacation there. Aunt Edna was a tiny little thing maxing out at somewhere under 5 feet tall. She was my last grasp on my parent’s generation. All of my aunts and uncles have now passed away. I feel like I have lost a part of my past.

The first thing that struck me when I saw that she had died was that it took me so long to find out. There are a few things that I am good at, but keeping in touch with friends and relatives is not one of them. I’ve tried to stay in touch with my friends in Columbus, but haven’t done a very good job. I have been even worse with my own relatives. If it wasn’t for Julia sending out seasonal cards, they probably would not have even known that we moved to Arizona. They probably should have disowned me from the family by now.

Because we were going back to Columbus this past weekend for family pictures with Julia’s family (I’ll have another blog entry on that topic), Julia asked me if there was anyone that I wanted to see while I was back in town, as we had a few non scheduled hours available. I wasn’t sure at first because there were so many people that I would have liked to have seen, I didn’t know where to draw the line. Then it hit me that this might be a good chance to see my relatives in Dayton.

Then I had to decide which side would I see. Lord knows you don’t mix sides of families except at weddings and funerals. To break precedent, I thought I would get crazy and invite both the Churan’s (although none of them actually have that last name) and the Pregon’s (and most of them don’t have that last name either.) To kill two birds with one stone, we would meet at my favorite pizza place, Marion’s.

On a side note, we ate very traditionally in our home when I was growing up, never having Chinese, German or Italian food, including pizza. It wasn’t until I was a freshman in high school that I ate pizza for the first time. I was given the task to order a dozen pizzas for my homeroom end of the year celebration. I was told to call Marion’s for the pizzas. I knew how to dial the phone, but I had no idea even what went on a pizza. Luckily the folks at Marion’s helped me out and I have had a soft spot in my heart for that place for the last 43 years.

Julia sent Easter cards to my cousins in Dayton and mentioned that we would be at Marion’s at 6 PM on April 16 if anyone wanted to stop by and say “hi.” It had been years since I had actually seen of my relatives, so I really didn’t know what to expect. Julia estimated that we might have as many as 20 people, so Marion’s set aside an area for us and reserved some tables.

We got there a little before 6 and my cousin Maggie and her husband Roger were there so we knew, at least, we would not be eating alone. Then more and more people started flowing in. I didn’t count, but we had to have over 60 people there. It was wonderful getting to see everyone again. Not only did my cousins show up, but so did their kids and they brought their kids. It was like a funeral without all of the sadness.

Sometimes we take our friends and relatives for granted as in many ways it is a part of our past. When you move away, it is easy to just worry about the here and now. Hopefully, our getting together will rekindle some relationships, not only for me but for everyone there. Friends come and go, but your relatives are there forever, no matter how much time and many miles keep you apart.

It was a great way to start off a pretty important week for me. This Thursday, I will have possibly my last blood draw at the Mayo Clinic. Because of insurance constraints, my coverage at the Mayo ends on June 4. I am hoping and praying that some type of miracle has happened and my cancer has continued to recede. Despite the fact that I have been given this burden, it has been a great year with the people at the Mayo and I will miss them. Hopefully, we can part with smiles on our faces.