Last week we had a lot of family and friends coming from all over the country and world to attend my dad’s funeral. My cousin and my aunt, my dad’s sole surviving sibling, were two of those who came. They live in Missouri. (Back story now complete.)
Between our “extended” trip to Missouri this summer and then this short time together, this has been the most time my cousin and I have spent together—ever. Her work has kept her in Missouri, and until a couple of years ago, mine kept me in California. But I think both my father’s death and these times together reminded both of us that family . . . even family that lives 1500 miles away . . . is important . . . and fun.
Families often make promises to bridge the distance and visit each other, but good intentions often go unfulfilled, so to insure a visit by one of us to the other, we packed our promise with a little extra insurance in the form of a bet. San Francisco wins, she buys me dinner; Kansas City wins, I buy her dinner. I think you can see the problem . . . 1500 miles.
I lost. So I will honor my bet, this year or next, and get back to Missouri and take my cousin out to Dairy Queen. Had she lived closer she might have earned an In-and-Out Burger. The bill, by the way, will be sent to the 49ers.