My “Baby” Cousin, Tracey

In my advanced age (I’m 50); one might think it’s a bit late in life for me to be becoming acquainted with my family. For me, it’s amazing revelation that is more welcome than I can truly describe.
The Morgan family is related to me through my mother. Mom didn’t have any sister’s and brothers, but did/does have cousins. My Grandma Midge is Tracey’s great aunt. I think that’s the closest I can come to defining how we are related.
It was in the 1980’s that my mom announced we were going to a family reunion, to Ohio that summer,. I was surprised and confused. We hadn’t lived in Michigan since I was 2 years old. So I hadn’t had a lot of experience with extended family. We moved to Florida in 1965. When we did, there was a long parade of relatives who came to visit. I sort of surmised that this family reunion (we were going to attend) was going to be comprised of those relatives of which I had vague memories. I was wrong. I am wrong often.
First, I will mention, and this has no real bearing on my story, my mom had not fully prepared me for what I would experience. I am 4’ 10” and spent most of my Jr high, High School, and adult life contending with munchkin, midget and dwarf jokes. There was only one other gal who was “vertically challenged” in school and we defended each other vorateously.
Meeting a good deal of the Morgan family eye-to-eye was profound for me.
I think I felt like a Little Person attending her first LP convention.
It was wonderful for me to feel so…at home.

My memories of Tracey are fragmented and brief and fleeting. I remember first meeting her. She has large and brilliant eyes, which put Carolina skies to shame. She had a 60 watt smile that lit up the entire room. She had a guileless enthusiasm that was infectious. She was stunning. Well, all of the Morgan girls are stunning. The Morgan boys (men) are heart-stoppingly handsome.
This WAS a bit of a problem for me at the reunion, I will confess.
I didn’t get to spend a great amount of time with her at the reunion, but she made an impression.

The next time I met Tracey made a sharper impact. It was at my Gram Midge’s funeral. It was my first family funeral. Actually, it was the first funeral I had ever attended at all. A HUGE woman came up to me. I was mindlessly thanking people for coming (prior to the service). The woman was wearing the same outfit as my mother. I was still jet-lagged, sleep deprived, not to mention grief stricken and I had a migraine headache left over from the previous night. Even with all of those disadvantages, I looked at the woman and had one clear thought.
“Please don’t be related to me.”
Bleary-eyed, I queried “I’m sorry, who are you?”
Obviously insulted at my question, with a biting tone, she said to me “I’m Willa”.
I looked at her for a long and probing moment, hoping for the three cherries to drop into slots and recognition to spew forward from my addled brain.
It didn’t.
What happened next was almost miraculous to me. I was standing there, stupefied and cold. Suddenly, this bright angel interrupted, intervened.
I found myself being hugged by a beautiful blond young woman. She smelled good. She gave me a warm hug and said to me (as though we had spoken the previous night) “We were running late, but I made it.”
I remember hugging her back and the warmth emanating from her dark coat.
She said only “I’m so sorry”.
I remember thanking her.
She ebbed away, joining Uncle Ted and Aunt Jean and I remembered.
She’s Tracey.
Blessedly, she changed my focus and I completely abandoned “Willa” and moved to find mom to tell her the Morgans had arrived.

Move forward too many years to innumerate. I had a page on Facebook that I had all but abandoned. One day, I found myself visiting my page to do some maintenance and there, on my page, was a message…from Tracey.
She was expressing her sympathies for Mom’s passing and saying we were in their thoughts and prayers.
It was sweet and very touching.
I tapped out a thank you, expecting that she would “ebb away” as before.
She hasn’t.
This Christmas she’s expressed how hard she knows it must be for me.
She’s read this blog.
She’s told me about the rest of the Morgan clan.
She’s treated me like family.
She’s taken me in, as family.
She’s made me believe in “family”, again.
It is with a sore and tender heart, that is beating again, I remember Tracey, my cousin, and her family, in my own Christmas prayers.
God bless them deeply.
Keep them safe and warm.
Keep them healthy, until I can see them again.

Until next time,
Eat something wonderful
And live a life worth loving.
-Kim