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their son was named david, which was the name of my father's two brothers, as well as of his cousin paul, and of some of his friends' children. the idea of this cousin as a namesake always seemed odd to me, but i should have guessed that my father had related it himself, at some point in his past, to one of his brothers. i don't remember david ever being in my life, but the impression of his presence was everywhere. i spent my childhood in a houseful of personal references to his existence, which i felt i should politely ignore. to be fair to him, david was a sensitive, lonely person, and i just wanted to be able to take care of him. but our relationship was never anything but strained. although we didn't speak often, i always felt that he was watching me, as if i was being studied. one of my strongest impressions of him as a child was of how cautious he was with words. when he was little, he almost never swore. david looked for acceptance, and he could be quick to anger if he didn't get it. he could also be gentle and patient, and he'd sometimes be quiet for days at a time. he also had a thing for soft toys, and whenever he gave one to me, he'd spend time with it, reassuring it that it was loved. he would get me to buy him larger plush dolls at a nearby gift shop, and would always think that they were a little smaller than he was. i'd buy the dolls at a discount and then leave them on a shelf in his room for a few days, where they'd take on a new shape and he'd look at them in the sun.
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we were not particularly close, but i still liked david, and i had a lot of my childish attachments to him, and to the idea that he was my father's brother, to spread around to others. other people believed that he was my uncle. this didn't bother me. i often liked a mark of kinship that had nothing to do with blood or genetics. there were people i liked because they were close relatives. my brother had been my father's brother too, and he was the nephew of my sister and her husband. and my father's first wife, the mother of paul and the mother of one of my father's two brothers, had been my paternal grandmother. i liked this family that was also my own because it felt like it had always been ours. and because it was mine, i could not be sure what to do about david.