So I was having a delightful dinner the other night with all my relatives here in Baltimore. Luckily enough, I managed to lump them all in one pain-free visit and dinner, so it wasn't stretched out over the whole weekend.

First we went to visit my grandmother's sister-in-law and her husband, and my father's cousin - boy was I in for a treat. Everything about this house was old. Even the dog had artheritic problems and continually had to "rest" every time she followed us somewhere. First we run into Elbert, the wheezing uncle to my dad. Everything about him screamed medical attention, right down to the oxygen cord we kept inadvertantly stepping on. Then Tammy (dad's 51 year old cousin) and Lauren (Dad's 76 year old aunt) came back from shopping. I don' think Lauren was in that house for more than 3 minutes until she burst open her blouse to show us her latest surgery scar (better now than at dinner). Then she attempts to invite herself to our dinner which we were going to have with Dad's other cousins. Unfortunately, she succeeds and I make a mental note to myself not to sit next to her - to save myself the details of her last stroke. We left them about an hour later - still listening to Elbert whine and guilt trip everyone about not being able to go to dinner, and went to visit the other neurotic part of the family.

Martha and Keith are Dad's cousins that never seemed to be able to have fun or be young. It's like they hatched out of some sort of egg - already in their 60's - and they are younger than my dad. Keith can't hear anything worth a shit, and Martha is in desperate need to do something with her free time. Right now she spends it decorating doll houses in the manner in which I think she should have been living all along - single, with a cat in every room. It's not that I don't like Martha and Keith, it just seems that they are biding their time until death.

The only really redeeming quality of the visit to Martha and Keith's house was to see their mother and my great aunt Lissy. I think she was the youngest of everyone living there (and in Larue and Ed's house for that matter) and she was bedridden and in her 80's. She still knew how to laugh,was alert, and not once mentioned if she was in any pain or showed me any fresh stitches I might be interested in.

Anyway, the dinner conversation was sparkling as I am sure you can agree that when 4 old people get together, the only thing they have in common was their ailments. I heard about breasts being removed, strokes that left these people paralyzed (everything except their mouth it seemed) and pills and medications that these people were on. I felt kinda left out and wished I could have offered some sort of limb-severing story, but I didn't want to steal anyone's thunder - or get any helpful medical advice for that matter. My grandmother, myself, and my father quietly listened to everyone and didn't say a whole lot - for fear of being dragged in and demanded of an opinion.

So that was my wicked relative story this year... I probably won't be back to see any of them until another 4 or 5 months - and as luck would have it - everytime i visit, another family member dies within the month. How creepy is that?