Usually I don’t check my email on Saturday mornings, but I had a little time before heading out to run errands.

I’m glad I checked.

There was a message from my cousin Kathy that our cousin Pamela was in town for a few hours – did I want to get together at her mom’s house for a quick visit?

My first thought was my long to-do list for the day.

My second thought was a promise I made last year – no regrets. If I didn’t head into Houston and see my cousins, I’d get everything done on my list before 2 p.m. We didn’t grow up together, so it might not be a big deal to decline.

But I knew the right answer. Family’s important. I pointed the car toward Memorial City Mall and thought about the cousins in my life.

On my dad’s side, I have 25 first cousins, and there was always somebody our age when we got together for family crab boils.

Sylvia is a year older than I am, and we’re more like sisters than cousins. She helped guide me through the turbulent teenage years, and she’s still helping me cope with tough situations.

On my mom’s side, there’s also 25 first cousins. We spent many hours together at a grandparent’s house or an aunt’s kitchen, and those smells and scenes are as fresh to me today as they were all those years ago.

Kathy lives in the Houston area, and I get to see her from time to time. However, Pam lives in Virginia, and I hadn’t seen her in over 30 years. We call her mom Aunt Vickie, and I’ve looked up to her ever since I was a little girl.

Aunt Vickie was always on the go. She’d come over to my mom’s house in the mornings, pushing a stroller loaded down with all five of her children.

She’d bring along a loaf of freshly baked banana bread, articles she’d cut out of the newspaper for my mom and enough positive energy to fuel us for the day.

She ran marathons long before they were popular, wrote a booklet for incoming college students and taught business classes at the local business college.

My Aunt Mary is 89 and still going strong. As the eldest cousin, she was one of the first women in our family to go to college, and, as she put it, threw open the gates to equal opportunity for Lebanese girls.

When Pamela answered the door, I would’ve recognized her anywhere – the gorgeous ringlets so much like my Aunt Bev’s, the high cheek bones and her mom’s beautiful smile.

For two hours, Pamela and I sat at Aunt Mary’s kitchen table and compared memories about our hometown, the familiar smells in our grandmother’s kitchens, our children and grandchildren.

On the way home, I called my sister to tell her about the visit, and she looked Pamela up online. Pamela never gave me a hint that I was talking to one of the most prestigious educators on the East coast.

She’s a professor and chair at the exclusive William and Mary College. She’s written multiple books, was a Fulbright scholar in Dublin and has published numerous academic papers.

Bragging isn’t in Pamela’s DNA, nor is that trait evident in her siblings who are all highly-ranked professionals and scholars.

A true educator, Pamela quietly taught me something about grace and selflessness –take a genuine interest in the person sitting with you instead of figuring out what to say next. Our mothers, aunts and grandmothers taught us the same lesson, and they were all taught at the kitchen table.

I’m humbled and thankful to have five generations of strong, intelligent women as role models.

The next time an opportunity comes up to spend time with a remarkable woman, count me in.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.