2018.09.03 Canadian Family

The Portland Castle Clan drove up to my home town of Nelson BC, in Canada, to stay with my Grandpa Kosiancic for the "Celebration of Life" for my Grandma Kosiancic. It was deeply meaningful to be there with him, and to witness his courage and stoicism. And to be humbled both by his unwavering love for his Violet, and the vitality that still illuminates his small, wiry 90-year-old frame.

Among the rare creatures who appeared, as if from fairy tales, were:

• my mother, the hermit
• my uncle, the recluse
• my aunt, "the good one"
• my sister, her common-law husband, and her two kids with their partners
• cousins that I have not seen since childhood
• Grandpa Kosiancic's younger and-much-less-flourishing brother
• people I knew when I was a child in Valhalla

It was sort of akin to being an alien imposter wearing a human family-member's skin. My difficulty in relating with most of these people ended up feeling abstract, requiring me to simplify myself into a tritely-packaged version that they could swallow. And yet, it was still really valuable to me to have these various imperfect connections with my physically-distant family. Almost as though I was made more real by existing an incrementally more clear fractal image in their minds.

Better still was driving through the night to visit with Dave. He remains the only person with whom I am surprised by the degree to which I transform into a chatterbox. It felt really good to engage in that high-bandwidth connection after a day of low-fidelity conversations. The lonely nighttime drive itself was a conversation with my younger Kootenay-dwelling self, going swiftly and eagerly and drowning out my singing with my favourite songs.