Every Family has its own mythology, stories told and retold. Some of the stories are grand, of course, but most of them are modest, just the details of this person’s or that person’s life. But, in growing up within a family, and listening around the dinner table, or on the porch, or in the kitchen, the members of your family, even those rarely seen, take on a mythical quality. They stand apart. They are singled out as part of you and part of you story.

I’m thinking about this because here in Colville WA we stayed last night with my Mom’s cousin Esther. I can’t say with any confidence when the last time was that I saw Esther, but we haven’t had many opportunities to get to know each other, especially since I’ve been in New York. But all the same, she welcomed me as family. I met her husband Allen (for I’m certain the second or third time) and her daughters Missy and Julia. We had a luxurious day, sitting on the porch, playing at the beach on Lake Roosevelt, and eating a large home cooked meal.

But through all of it, I was struck by how these people’s relationship to me, their place in my whole family constellation, and, more significantly, the stories we carried with us made me feel connected to them. Esther and I looked through her photos from a family reunion that I missed this summer (while I was in Wisconsin), and as we talked about the family, I was overwhelmed by our shared experience.

I’m sure Joe and Kate grew tired of family talk, so I will keep it to a minimum here. Esther and Allen are well. Allen’s business seems to continue to be strong. Their daughter Missy recently graduated from college and is flying to Seattle on Monday for a job interview and their daughter Julia will be entering college this fall and is considering studying business. Uncle Paul and Aunt Marsha came down for dinner and to celebrate their fifty seventh anniversary and both looked well. Uncle Paul is still swimming every other day.