Spent a lovely evening a little while ago in Portrush in the company of my cousin Adrian--a guy I've been friends with since we were kids--and two of his lovely friends Molly and Smokie who live now in the England and Wales but come to vacation at their family home here. Marvelous girls and much laughter and vino was consumed by all. Their house commands breathtaking views of the East strand--a gently curving golden sand beach that dips without fuss until engulfed by the cold, frothy Celtic eye-blue waters of the unpredictable Irish sea. Waking up was a treat because I pulled the bedroom curtains open to look down on the beach where a two muscular chestnut and black horses were being put through their paces, first cantering then galloping along the length of the beach.
The previous evening--after first meeting the ladies and sipping a few glassfuls of champers--Adrian took me out to dinner at a very decent Italian restaurant where we caught up with a lot of family stuff (immediate and extended) and stuff we'd been both been doing for the past few years. The week prior my sister Siobhan and her hubby Michael had had him and our Aunt Mary over for a delicious supper (a supper that included my favorite sherry trifle pudding for desert) during which Adrian regaled us with anecdotes from a recent Russian trip he'd made that was hilarious, so much so indeed we were doubled over with laughter. He should have been a writer, too. I think its in the familial genes.
As I watched him at my sister's and then at Molly and Smokie's, I thought how grateful and happy I am to have re-acquainted with him. Life has many twists and turns and it becomes so busy we can never seem to carve out space and keep up with the doings of cousins and past friends. I love meeting new people, immediately knew Molly and Smokie will be good friends, but it's wonderful to be able to make time to spend with relatives and old friends. It's what life's about.
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