Four girls were born in June, one in October, all in 2008. Five sets of screaming when our tío would bark like a dog at us at sleepovers. Four girls in Miami, one girl in Boston. Fifteen minute drives and three hour FaceTime calls trying to see if the others will join. Betting money on which girl will laugh first at the dinner table on Sunday nights.
All of these things pertain to my girl cousins, who I text, call, see, argue with, laugh at, hug and rot with almost every single week. They are the only people I have known since birth, and I would be lying if I did not say they are my second set of sisters.
In order of oldest to youngest, I have two cousins that are juniors and two that are twins in sophomore year, with all of them being the ones born in June. I was the only one born in October, and while that very well could be a factor lessening our bond, it does not affect anything at all.
I never knew such a bond was so uncommon until around middle school, when my cousins would be at every event I would host, whether their parents were there or not. It never crossed my mind once that it’s not common to go everywhere with your cousins, and some do not see or speak to them for months at a time. I grew up thinking it was a regular thing to always be with your cousins, especially such a big group of them.
They are the people I turn to in any situation, because they will always remain judgement-free and loving, even if an embarrassing story turns into a crying-laughing-to-teasing session for the next 20 minutes.
Only twice out of the year we can finally coordinate seeing each other, which consists of late nights during winter break and summers running to see the sunset every night on Sanibel Island.
Sanibel has been our place since we were born, and for the past two years our summers have been spent much farther away, in North Carolina. Hurricane Ian was the very first time we did not spend summer on the island, and this transitional period has been both memorable and extremely painful. All of our mental timelines are mapped in our summers and winters together, and without a true Sanibel summer, it has been a strange couple of years.
The Carolinas have been good to us, but this will be the summer that Sanibel finally gets a visit from the 50+ Cubanos that have been (not) patiently waiting for its reopening.
In such a tragic turn of events, this year I will not see my girls for an entire summer, which surprisingly enough, will be the longest time I have ever spent away from them. Then, soon after, the countdown to our last summer begins.
The sole thought of our last summer has plagued me for months, because an entire cousin summer will be erased from my life. Nothing else could worry me more than if we are going to go our separate ways in less than a year.
While I know nothing can separate us for good, being separated will be an alien experience for four out of five of us. Letting our parents plan everything and us just showing up will be miles away, and we will actually need to coordinate solid plans, which again, is extremely foreign for us.
When the topic of a maid of honor is mentioned, many turn to a life-long, or even short-term close friend. Typically, brides only choose one or two maids of honor.
However, I hope that there will be enough veil space for five hands — my sister’s included —, as I expect each and every one of them to be my maids of honor.
Juliana, Maddie, Amelie and Mia: Take this as a pre-camp letter from me to all of you, because I will completely forget to write for half of my time there. You are my favorite people in the whole world. I hope you know I love you all so incredibly much and that every day is a little better when spent in your company. By the way, I just beat you in the try not to cry challenge.
Love,
(Your Favorite) Ellie.
