Sunday, 30 September 2001 | Celebra

Today is my nephew's fourth birthday, yesterday the adult-half of the celebration. It's strange that at immediate family gatherings I can feel so out of my element, much more so than when I was younger. Pepperoni pizza and football on the television, a starred and striped cardigan, exaggerated faces made to get reactions from the baby, and lots of plastic—utensils, soda bottles, tiny firefighters and dump trucks, stools on which to stand to reach the sink. There were a couple new faces, unexpected faces, and I felt a little overwhelmed when I walked in. Can you say hi to aunt Lisa? This is my daughter, my sister, she's not been feeling well. My parents were anchors, though, and the day wasn't for me anyway.

After the party there were a few hours for me to spend back in the sick cave, and then I drove down old roads past caving-in barns, sitting cows, and old general stores to my parents' hometown and to EJ and Oliver's wedding. I expected to see about a the fifth of the people I ended up seeing—some, repeats from Clyda's wedding; some, friends whom I'm genuinely sorry I don't see more often; and, of course, some, people whose distance from my life (and vice versa) created awkward two-sentence life summaries and forced closures. I had fun and should've left at the end of the reception, rather than thinking that a sparse after-party was a good idea.