rants: so-called heroes & fallen heroes & being disowned (revisited)
One of my cousins (daughter of a maternal first-cousin of my father) found me in Facebook. I normally wouldn’t respond since no one really cares about this black sheep outsider, but this was different. This was Tina — the one who would rescue me from boring (painfully dull) family events and introduced me to The Rolling Stones as well as Indian food and even her faith in Islam. She, her younger sister, my oldest sister and my only brother are about the same age. They were close growing up and still are fairly close nowadays. I accepted her as a friend and sent her a message, which she responded shocking me.
“Tina, it’s great to see you again. I see that you haven’t changed. I’m surprised that you asked me to ‘friend’ you. After all, I don’t have any relation with anyone in the Boniffaccini side of the family starting with my dad.”
“I love you. You’re my baby cousin. Who you have or don’t have contact with is irrelevant. I was so happy to find you!”
Not too many things touch my heart, but my cousin’s words should did.