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I arrived just after the appetizers were served, and was greeted with concerned well wishes. I was a good hour and a half late, thanks to the lovely congestion and construction on I95. As stressed as I was from the drive, the last thing I wanted to do was just plop down in a seat again. So I helped my cousins clear the plates, then load the dinner plates with slices of turkey and sagging piles of lasagna (yes, it was an eclectic dinner) and really tasty salad. Conversation bounced back and forth, only getting slightly tense when my cousin brought up the news that her mother and father didn't approve of her new boyfriend. My aunt handled herself with quiet dignity as the rest of the family encouraged her my cousin to see him. I think my aunt is beginning to thaw a little about it. Her branch of the family is fiercely stubborn, which must have been lovely to grow up in. I played with the newest addition of the family, my 1 1/2 yr old nephew Aidan, and congratulated my cousin again on giving him such a cool name. Most of the weekend I played on my laptop, but always within earshot of conversations, offering my two cents here and there, being a little apart and a little there, circling the family on a slightly wider, but regular orbit.
The next morning conversation steered around a reunion of the first performance of the Nutcracker ballet at Radio City Music Hall (of which my aunt was an original cast member) and segued into transgender issues. The dancer who sat under the bed and whisked it around the stage during the Nutcracker went on to work at Madison Square Garden for my uncle, and then went on to become a woman. My uncle handled it well, and helped keep the rest of his staff from giving her too much grief. I could write volumes about my uncle's exploits while we worked at the Garden, such as the time he gave a Secret Service agent a pack of Black Jack gum because Mrs. Kennedy ran out of gum. She walked up to him later to thank him for the gum and chat a little, while Secret Service agents stood attentively nearby, their hands in their coats. My relatives had what I'd call the "standard" response to the transgender discussion: they were shocked and didn't understand, but we supportive of the person to do what they wanted. It almost seemed to me like they didn't approve, but years of training kicked in and dictated their "we should be accepting" response. I took what little knowledge I knew about the subject and shared it with them.
One by one my aunts, uncles, and cousins said their good byes and departed for Cape May and State College. Finally my parents and I loaded up our cars, hugged and said our good byes. They returned to Manchester, and I crawled through more congestions to Boston, to resume my far orbit of the family.
The next morning conversation steered around a reunion of the first performance of the Nutcracker ballet at Radio City Music Hall (of which my aunt was an original cast member) and segued into transgender issues. The dancer who sat under the bed and whisked it around the stage during the Nutcracker went on to work at Madison Square Garden for my uncle, and then went on to become a woman. My uncle handled it well, and helped keep the rest of his staff from giving her too much grief. I could write volumes about my uncle's exploits while we worked at the Garden, such as the time he gave a Secret Service agent a pack of Black Jack gum because Mrs. Kennedy ran out of gum. She walked up to him later to thank him for the gum and chat a little, while Secret Service agents stood attentively nearby, their hands in their coats. My relatives had what I'd call the "standard" response to the transgender discussion: they were shocked and didn't understand, but we supportive of the person to do what they wanted. It almost seemed to me like they didn't approve, but years of training kicked in and dictated their "we should be accepting" response. I took what little knowledge I knew about the subject and shared it with them.
One by one my aunts, uncles, and cousins said their good byes and departed for Cape May and State College. Finally my parents and I loaded up our cars, hugged and said our good byes. They returned to Manchester, and I crawled through more congestions to Boston, to resume my far orbit of the family.
