Growing up, every holiday took place at my grandparents’ house in Stockton, Calif. — halfway between my house and my cousins’ house.
The drive from my hometown to my cousins’ is roughly three hours, but with busy sports and work schedules, this drive was almost never made. This left Thanksgiving and Christmas to be the only times our family was reunited.
Yet, this all changed this summer, when my dad decided to move back to the Central Valley where he grew up, to the same city as my aunt, uncle and cousins. Soon enough, my grandma would follow the trend and move there too, putting our entire family within a 15-minute drive of one another.
Before I knew it, I was seeing the people I usually saw two or three times a year at least once a week. My dad and I were stopping by their houses to drop off items or baking a cake to bring to our family dinner — concepts that were entirely unfamiliar to me throughout my childhood and teenage years.
As we blow out each additional candle on the cake, it is sometimes scary to be told tall tales about this “real world” and all that it possesses. Growing up is scary, and it can be easy to feel like you’re “too old” or that it is “too late” for certain things.
Yet, through the past four months, I have come to learn that it is truly never is too late for anything.
I spent my summer with a multitude of obligations, but the best thing that came from it was exploring the connection with my family I was never able to fully discover growing up.
On Memorial Day, our whole family gathered in the park across the street from my dad’s house to barbecue and play outdoor games. Soon enough, this turned into a competitive brawl, which I ultimately lost.
One night, at a birthday celebration for my dad, my cousin Jeremy and I played guitar together while my uncle Jim instructed us, who is just a baton short of being considered a music conductor.
On the Fourth of July, my cousins and I ate dinner together and laughed at how many of the same red, white and blue Old Navy shirts we saw on TV as we watched PBS’s “A Capitol Fourth“ concert.
As the Olympic games were beginning, my cousin Elizabeth and I exchanged a quick look when my dad mentioned watching the opening ceremony — our minds were both greeted with the memory of my dad forcing us to watch it in 2012 during a summer visit, which we still joke about to this day.
I was presented with a list of new coffee shops to try by my cousin Cameron, who shares the same love for coffee as I do. My dad and I made it our mission to seek out the best iced vanilla latte with oat milk in town.
Even aside from discovering this new connection with my family, this new adventure gave my dad and I a chance to seek out new places, activities and restaurants. Whether it was walking through the Friday night farmer’s market, going out for a late-night ice cream run or walking through my dad’s old high school, this summer allowed my dad and I to explore a new area together.
Being so far apart in age and distance, it was easy for me to overlook the possibility of my cousins and I possessing a close relationship throughout my adolescence. Yet, what I came to learn throughout the summer is that it truly never is too late.
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Contact Amanda Monahan via email: amanda.monahan@pepperdine.edu
