Tomorrow, I will meet my first paternal relative. I’ve been spending the week in New York City, catching up on work and meeting up with old friends and colleagues. Several months ago, I “met” a few of my cousins through Facebook friend requests and initial conversations via messenger. One of these “new” paternal cousins mentioned that she lives in Brooklyn. We talked about how I had also lived there for three years, and then reminisced about the city.
Then she invited me to visit her sometime when I was in the area once again. And I am. So we shall.
While not the first paternal relative that I’ve been in contact with, she will be the first that I witness in the flesh. The first mirror of this side of myself that will not be my own reflection. One that will not be made of an inanimate object. She will be real, just like me. She will have her own story, even while that story at some point–stretching back in time–crossed paths with mine. Tomorrow, our lines will cross paths again and stand still.
What will that mean? How will that be? I don’t know.
And yet, hello. It has been too long.