Joelle is the oldest daughter of my wife Ameila’s cousin Tom. Growing up, Amelia and Tom were close, though they saw each other much less once the college years began. Joelle is just fourteen months older than Chloe. Tom, Joelle and their family live a long airplane flight away, but Tom has made it a point to visit our family whenever he has had an extended business visit to our part of the country.
For his most recent visit earlier this month, Tom did things a little bit differently. He brought his daughter Joelle along and dropped her off at our house Sunday evening to spend the entire week with our family while he spent his week in business meetings. The primary goal was to establish a meaningful connection between Joelle and Chloe, and I am pleased to report we were indeed successful in that endeavor.
Joelle arrived with both excited anticipation and a guarded sense of caution. Tom spent perhaps two hours at our house in the family room that Sunday evening having the usual catch-up chat. We discussed our respective business environments, national and local real estate markets, politics, the art of parenting and managing kids’ schools, and scores of other subjects that I no longer remember. Chloe showed Joelle her room and Philip carried Joelle’s trunk-sized suitcase upstairs for her. Joelle stayed mostly with her father during the window he was with us Sunday evening while Chloe and Philip went in and out.
It was perhaps nine o’clock in the evening when Tom finally said his goodbyes and headed for his hotel. Amelia and I were quite tired but Chloe and Joelle were clearly hours away from even the potential to fall asleep. So we settled on requiring the girls to have all their bedding prepared and to be in their pajamas. Philip retired to his own room to laugh at Youtube videos behind a closed door. Amelia and I also retired to the master bedroom but didn’t turn out the light until over an hour later. Chloe and Joelle took control of the family room and agreed to watch the Lindsey Lohan movie, Mean Girls together.
Monday morning when I left for work, I could see Chloe and Joelle fast asleep and had no interest in waking them. Amelia had daytime plans for the family each day of the week, including an Aquarium visit on Wednesday for which I took the day off from work. On Monday and Tuesday evening I took Chloe and Joelle to a local theme park for which Chloe and Philip each had season passes. Philip joined us for the first night. With each passing day, Joelle seemed more settled and comfortable with us. By Tuesday evening I had nick-named the girls Josie and Chlosie and it seemed to stick. And by the end of our day at the Aquarium on Wednesday there was no distinguishing that Joelle wasn’t Philip and Chloe’s sister. Joelle wrestled Philip with the same comfort and abandon that Chloe would exhibit with her brother. Most importantly, I knew I was going to miss having Josie around once she left and had already developed a secret hope that a visit from Joelle would become at least an annual ritual.
The plan for Friday evening was that Tom would take our entire family out for dinner at our favorite local restaurant, The Cambodian Barbeque and then he would depart with Joelle. Both Tom and I ran a little late on Friday due to traffic but there seemed to be no rush when I arrived at the restaurant to meet them. The adult conversation still covered business, finance and politics. But it also included descriptions of the highlights from the previous week. Tom laughed when he heard the nick-names Josie and Chlosie.
After extending the meal even further with desserts, the time to leave was clearly approaching. I took a moment to tell Joelle how much we enjoyed having her, how much she had come to mean to us and our hope that she will return many times. We all hugged as we said our final goodbyes. Tom and I shared a warm but brief bear hug along with our handshake. When Joelle hugged me, it reminded me of the way Chloe hugs me as opposed to the way the girls I had coached in soccer or basketball had hugged me. Joelle squeezed me tightly with both arms and pressed her face against by fleece pullover. I gently kissed the top of her head, squeezed and let go. Then I was missing her already, and that was just the way it was going to be. We left the restaurant waving until we all disappeared into separate cars.
The week with Joelle re-taught me something about extended family. They can simply be names that appear on a family tree as if we were all part of some club that rarely meets. Or they can be something close and special. My grandfather on my father’s side had a relative I knew as Uncle Ronald for which one had to trace back at least six generations to name a common ancestor. Nonetheless, Uncle Ronald hosted as many extended family members as would accept his invitation every summer at a huge home in a remote part of Maine with cold, fly-infested beaches but the world’s tastiest fresh-caught fish and fresh-picked blueberries. My father and I enjoyed two extended visits with Uncle Ronald when I was a child and then as a teenager I spent the day with Uncle Ronald during a brief break from a summer job. I’ve always wanted live my elder years like Uncle Ronald. The visit from Joelle marked the beginning of seeing that life-long dream fulfilled.
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