One of the main goals of traveling for us is to catch up with family scattered like dandelion seeds over the country.  From  Texas to Arizona to California to Colorado to Montana to New York.  We will miss Alabama and South Carolina and Florida this trip, but we are, after all, moving to Florida…

We talked over the picnic table last night about how strange it is that there are people in the world mommy and daddy have no relationship to, but when our kids are born, they instantly have uncles and great-aunts and cousins they will have for life.

My wife and kids have been meeting relatives, in some cases for the first time here in Dallas.  Strangers from a shared tribe open their homes and their emotional lives, and share all sorts of things, ask the most probing questions,  They are, after all, family.

Family often leaves clues.  My oldest is told affectionately that he has the mannerisms of Uncle Sandy, by a woman who’s not seen Sandy in decades.  Men who are grandparents are referred to by the names ten-year-olds carry.  Billy. Richie.

What invariably begins as the most awkward of conversations between complete strangers soon becomes surprisingly comfortable, after all.  Connections are discovered, both in the past and the present.

People spark friendships over the oddest things.  Dogs and campfires and roasted marshmellows. And tentative emails.  This is your niece.  We’ll be passing through in several weeks, and would like to see the gang…

Strangers become comrades, and partings are more genuine sadness than relief. Until next time…