The genetecist drew up a family tree and we both stared calmly at the results – entire branches marked off with a hatch, meaning: dead.
If most of your blood kin are gone, it is very hard to establish the veracity of a DNA claim.
I grieve for them in the extravagant, quiet way they would appreciate, but no matter how much I care, they will never come back.
My uncle Rodger was a world-class wit and only about fifteen years older than me. To a large extent our childhoods overlapped, and he was certainly the most playful of his set of siblings. Every year at Christmas we wore matching Santa hats.
When I evolved into a teenager with broken down cars he was the one who always rescued me – and my friends – with grace and good humor.
He died too young, before his own son came of age.
This morning when I checked my email there was a message and a photograph from the states announcing the arrival of a new little cousin.
Welcome to the world, Neven. Your grandfather would be tremendously, lavishly proud, and the rest of us are all so pleased to meet you!