“Is that Stephen?” A woman exclaimed, embracing my dad into a hug. I stood off to the side awkwardly. “And who is this?” she asked, looking at me. My dad and I just walked into a beautiful hilltop condo on Attitash mountain, occupied by some members of my family. I thought we were coming to meet up with my grandparents, but instead I walked into what seemed like a family reunion full of people I did not recognize.
“This is my daughter, Paige,” my dad said, “you remember her, don’t you?” It took a moment for her to register that the last time she saw me I was barely a human, swaddled in a blanket, wearing a diaper, and probably sleeping. I stuck out my hand, which she shook gingerly and continued to shake while she hugged me with her other arm. “I’m Kate,” she said, “Peg’s sister!” That makes her my great aunt, I thought to myself. I made a mental note not to forget.
“Paige,” a man said nodding his head and winking at me. He didn’t look familiar at all, but I smiled and said hello anyway. Was he my dad’s cousin? Uncle? I couldn’t remember. My dad was hugging, laughing, and joking with everyone in the room while I stood behind him, trying to take on the form of a chameleon and blend into my surroundings. My attempt failed.
“Hi, Paige, I’m Paul. I’m your dad’s uncle.” I had heard of Paul! He lived in Colorado! He went for the handshake but I put my arms out for a hug. Was that weird? I wondered. “This is my son, Will.” I shook Will’s hand and felt a bit more at ease because although he was my dad’s cousin, and my second cousin, he looked to be my age. I sat down next to him and tried not to look uncomfortable. As I was twiddling my thumbs and aimlessly checking my phone to look busy, my dad connected and reminisced with his aunts, uncles, and cousins. I laughed at his boisterous cackle and smiled because he was happy and in his element. These were his people; his kin.
Even though I was surrounded by people who were my family too, I started to feel a little weird, and very out of place. I wondered, how did my dad fit so perfectly into this puzzle whereas I am clearly a tiny metal thimble or shoe which belongs in a game of Monopoly. Perhaps I am a domino, or a pawn from some board game. Mouse Trap, Operation, maybe Yahtzee! Before I could compare myself to anymore Milton Bradley and Parker Brothers products, the door opened, and I saw my grandmother stepping in. I stood up, and rushed over to hug her. I missed her so much, and I was relieved to have someone familiar here with me.
“I am so happy to see you!” I said. She didn’t say anything back to me, and I bit my tongue, remembering the reason my dad and I were here in the first place. My grandmother’s sister — my dad’s aunt and my great aunt — passed away earlier in the summer. Everyone had flown or drove to New Hampshire for a few days to attend her service, which was to take place the following day. Trying to recover myself, I let go from the hug and told my grandmother I had missed her.
We went and sat next to my new cousin, Will, and fell into conversation. I told her about school and life. We talked about our dogs and jobs. It was as if we hadn’t been away from one another for as long as we had. Her sister Kate, who I met earlier, came over to join in, and so did the winking man, Uncle Paul, and my dad. I looked at all of them, with their signature gaps between their front teeth when they smiled. Their eyes all gleamed with an identical hue. Where had I seen that before? I excused myself to use the bathroom, and as I looked at myself in the mirror, it hit me: my eyes were their eyes. Two years of braces erased the gap in my teeth years ago, but at one point I had it too. I’m not a Monopoly piece, a domino, or a pawn. No, I am most certainly a puzzle piece. One which fits into the configuration of this family that started in Bartlett, New Hampshire generations ago.
Walking out of the bathroom, I looked at these people in a new light. They sat around the dinner table, eating pizza and looking at pictures; laughing. Questions ran through my mind: is it okay to laugh in situations like this? Is it acceptable to be happy to see one another? Is it wrong that I am grateful to have this opportunity to meet members of my family I may have otherwise never known? I don’t know if there is a right answer to those questions, but to me, the answers are all the same; yes, it is perfectly okay to laugh, be happy, and be grateful. Perhaps in other family puzzles or games it isn’t, but the pieces of this puzzle are funny, loud, and quite special.
In the past, whenever someone asked me about my family, my answers were typically accompanied by somewhat of a sigh, because there is a complexity to my extended unit. Between adoptions, divorces, half-siblings, step-parents, and step-siblings, there tends to be quite a bit of confusion when I go into the story of who my family is and how we all came to be. Although there is a complication of knots which tie me to other people in this world who are apart of my clan, I wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, would we be a family if it was any different?
My section of the puzzle may be patterned or shaped differently in comparison to the others, but we are all apart of the same picture. Together we form what is us; a jigsaw meshed together to create one wonderful masterpiece. I suppose the idea of being apart of a board game, dominoes, or another puzzle can at times seem tempting, but I think I will stay apart of this puzzle, with the hazel eyes, the gap teeth, and the laughing. I like this puzzle best.
