They say you save the best for last. Well on our last day in Argentina, we visited the Buenos Aires side of the family. Marta, Patricia, Lulu Mama Juanita and baby cousin Charo (they are in that order above except Charo) welcomed us all with hugs, kisses, stories and a scrumptious lunch. We had a lovely and memorable visit with these down to earth, affectionate, and loving cousins. The girls, especially Havana, who would love a little sibling, was content to play with Charo who was just over a year old.
It was during visits like this that I wished I spoke Spanish. While the heart knows no language, I would have liked to heard the exchanges between Don and his family. I was able to gather bits and pieces of funny stories of past visits and of California cousins, when they lived in Argentina but it was not the same. I have never once regretted being adopted and raised by my New York Jewish family but on days like those in that cozy Palermo apartment, I longed to know the language of my birth family. I made a commitment then and there to make sure the girls learn Spanish.
The few hours we spent with our cousins went too fast. I was sad we had not been able to see them more than that one afternoon. Then I learned that Lulu and her family would be traveling to California for a family wedding just after the new year. My heart smiled; we would get to see some of our cousins again soon.
The most touching part of the day was when Mama Juanita, who was close to Don's mother, Josephine (or Jo as she was known to family and friends), looked at Don and started to cry as she spoke about missing his mother. I barley understood the words but my heart translated (and then Don did with words.) It was quite moving to hear someone who loved Don's mother, share stories about her. For a few brief moments, we felt Jo's presence in that room. She had come alive through Juanita. It is moments like those that stay with a person. I won't forget that, nor will Don who also got teary at Juanita's stories. It was very moving. The girls didn't quite understand it but they felt something as they both looked up from their busy play and asked, "Why is Papa crying?"
I pray the children on both sides of the family can continue to the connection of the family. Family means many things; sometimes family is heart, sometimes blood. In the Coughlin family it means both and that is a very special thing.
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| Juanita with great granddaughter Charo. |
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| Charo with grandma Lulu, Don and Juanita. |
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| With Patricia. |
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