I have a half-sister who’s my full-on favorite, but I’m my mother’s only child. That means I grew up solo.
She was the youngest of three girls, however, making me the baby of the baby and for years, the youngest person in our extended family. That usually worked in my favor when it came to spending time with my grandmother or aunts, who each had older children of their own.
I was spoiled from all angles, but the greatest gift I received was my cousins. Some I saw and bonded with more than others, but I loved each one of them dearly. Still do.
Holidays were my favorite time of the year, not just because of presents but because of their presence. We had a special connection that our family cultivated from the top down and I’ll always be thankful for that.
It grew as the years went on, like our family itself. My aunts had married my uncles decades before I was born, of course, and their children started having children. I was no longer the baby but had baby cousins, an undeniable adjustment but ultimately a big win in my book.
Things continued to change as the years went on, as they do. Our matriarch died not long after most of those cousins were born, passing that torch to my eldest aunt, and she shared stewardship of family gatherings with my uncle.
There were divorces, new marriages and new children, causing our family tree to branch out in even more directions. Split, more intimate holiday gatherings soon became the norm.
Before too long I also left Ohio for Florida, finding a chosen family and husband of my own. As my mom will attest, that kind of distance puts a real dampener on quality time with loved ones.
I’m thankful for all the time I do get, though, even under the worst of circumstances. Most recently that meant spending the better part of a week up north to attend my eldest uncle’s funeral.
He and I weren’t particularly close — I was always running off with an aunt or cousin and he was a man of few words, at least with me — but those words were always warm and welcoming. There was a gentle understanding between us that we were a part of something bigger together, a significant fact for us both.
I thought about that quite a bit during my trip, which included my uncle’s visitation one night and funeral service the next morning, when I served as a pallbearer. It was an honor and I found myself thankful that I could hold my mom, his sister-in-law of 68 years and support my aunt, who was his partner in crime for even longer than that.
It was a privilege to hug his daughter, my cousin of over four decades, and to spend time with his grandchildren, my “baby” cousins who have somehow become full-fledged adults. It was all a powerful reminder that family not only matters but that if you’re lucky enough, it can help heal.
The experience also reminded me that love is more powerful than hate. I’m certain I had very little in common with the majority of attendees during my uncle’s service, but everyone there very much loved him. I certainly did.
My trip showed me yet again that what divides us isn’t as strong as what brings us together, something I’m guilty of forgetting. In uncertain times for our community and country, I hope we can all cling to that fact when we need it.
We cling to joy in this issue, going on an LGBTQ+ book crawl through Central Florida and Tampa Bay. We also detail big changes for Dunedin Pride, which officially became a nonprofit under independent ownership last month. Its next celebration begins May 31.
In Central Florida news, Orlando entertainer Myki Meeks wins “RuPaul’s Drag Race” season 18 and Come Out with Pride celebrates its fifth annual Pride Prom. In Tampa Bay, we preview the 2026 Mx St Pete Pride pageant and highlight fundraisers for LGBTQ+ icon Kori Stevens, a local advocate who needs our help.
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