I bumped into my cousin Kate on the way back from work tonight. She’s one of the very few, actually the only one, from my family whose company I enjoy and who, even though I dont actually see her all that much, whenever I do see her, makes me think I should make more of an effort and organise more things to do with her.

Kate was born here and has a caucasion mother, a white Australian that is but referring to an earlier entry, it’s not like we have a lot of cultural similarities really. We have some peripheral values in common and while she’s not overly conservative, she is mainstream enough and has a reasonably straight up approach to life and relationships in general.

I think it is a matter of temperament. For some irrational and inexplicable reason, Kate reminds me of myself. There’s a part of me that resonates with her manner of being and that makes me identify with her. And there’s enough similarities on a biological blood-relative level, in spite of the whole cross-race thing, for me to see physical resemblances with aunts and uncles.

I’ve got a feeling that this is what a familial bond is about, it’s not an intellectual acceptance of a cultural tie, or a complex of guilt to do with responsibilities and obligation, but an irrational emotional recognition of similarity.

I just wish I felt like that about more of my biological family.

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