Cousins: The Magic Word
When our Katie and Abby were in elementary school, Paul’s grandmother, Gramma Bee, died.
Gramma Bee, a.k.a. Bernice Besteman, and Carl Meyer had both lost their spouses. Cancer took Carl’s wife, leaving him to raise two sons, Richard, or Dick, who was off to college (Go, Badgers!) and Allan, or Al, who was a young teenager. Bee’s ex-husband (the rotten so-and-so) left her with twins, John and Rob, and their younger sister Beverly (Bev). Carl noticed Bee in their Milwaukee church, and the proper behavior of her children impressed him as much as she did on her own. Soon, they were married, and the Meyer and Besteman families combined.
Fast forward to the Meyer and Besteman kids all grown up, married, and having their own children. No distinction was ever made between the families other than the last names; the kids begat cousins. Eventually, many of the cousins married and had children in this ever-expanding family, and that’s where our story comes in.
We packed up the girls and flew to Wisconsin to celebrate Gramma Bee’s life, and after the funeral service, we joined the family in the church basement. Half the room was set for lunch, while the other half was filled with kids who ran around and chased each other and jumped up and down, playing enthusiastically.
We stood in the doorway. Katie nervously clutched my hand and Abby hunkered in Paul’s arms.
Katie asked, “Who are these kids?”
Paul said, “Your cousins.”
“Cousins? Come on, Abby! Cousins!” And they ran over and joined the commotion, shouting, “We’re your cousins!”
That special word, “cousins,” made all the awkward trepidation float away. They had a clan. A team. A posse. Instant friends. No need to add water, they had a connection that required no introduction.
To this day, cousin is still a magical word in our family, even as the cousin group’s ages have risen to the 20s and 30s. Every Halloween and Valentine’s Day, Abby still sends candy and cards across the country to many of her cousins. No family gathering, including Katie’s recent wedding, is complete without a cousin photo—cousins only allowed in the frame. Cousins are the coolest. Period.
Cousins: Defined
When writing about cousins, it can be very helpful to your readers to explain the exact cousin relationship. A basic definition of cousins is they are people who share a common ancestor who is two generations away. Usually, we think of cousins as the kids of aunts and uncles. Cousins have at least one common grandparent.
First cousins are in the same generation. Second cousins are in the next generation. Cousins who are “removed” are children of cousins in a particular generation.
Confused yet? Who isn’t?
Charts are always helpful. However, I don’t want to risk plagiarism, so here are a few places you can find helpful visuals to explain the whole first-second-once-removed-cousin thing.
Ancestry.com link: https://www.ancestry.com/dna/lp/cousins-dna-match
Familysearch.org link: https://www.familysearch.org/en/blog/cousin-chart
Readers Digest link: https://www.rd.com/article/second-cousin-once-removed/
Cousins: Ours
We don’t tend to worry about cousin distinctions in our family. A cousin is a cousin is a cousin. I still love to visit with my cousins, and my cousins’ kids can often be found hanging with my kids. Mi cousin es su cousin. We kiss our cousins, we embrace every cousin’s spouse, we celebrate our cousins’ successes, we grieve with cousins, we break bread with cousins no matter how far removed.
Cousins are the absolute best.