FAMILY REUNIONS: BITTERSWEET

The former Lambert farm
that belonged to my grandparents,
Walt & Bertha Lambert

Recently, our granddaughter Alexa, age six, saw a photo of my dad, known to our daughters as Papa Duke.  Of course, Alexa never met him since he passed away a number of years before she came along.  She said wistfully, "I love Papa Duke . . .  and I miss him, too."  I reminded her that she had never met him (silly me), but with the wisdom of a child, she replied, "Well, I can still miss him, can't I??" 

Yesterday was a special day for me.  Clark and I spent some time with relatives from both of my parents' families, and it was such a blessing to see cousins I hadn't seen for 25 years or more!  We all live some distance from each other, but 12 of us were finally able to meet together after all these years.

My mother is from a family of ten children, and she has one younger brother, my uncle, still living.  My father had several half siblings, along with numerous nieces and nephews, who have had children and grandchildren as well.  I have no idea where numerous cousins and their children are right now, but I'm taking steps to rectify that.  With my father in the military all throughout my childhood, we often didn't get home for years at a time when we lived overseas.  The extended family merely adjusted without our presence (not that I blame them at all).  And now, my initial cousins have children and grandchildren that I do not even know or probably never will get to know.  When I see those around me who spend time with their extended families because they all grew up together, I recognize this is the flip side of the military life: living lots of interesting places and meeting lots of interesting people is fun, but one often forgoes family roots and relationships.  In addition, Clark and I have lived out of our home state much of our married life because our jobs have taken us to various parts of the country.

Another view of the farmhouse:
we used to play on the porch!

Yesterday, along with the aunt and uncle and the various and sundry cousins we could assemble, was a huge blessing for me:  we recalled our times as children and some of the shenanigans we shared at our Grandma Lambert's farmhouse.  The years just fell away for us as we laughed and talked over a shared meal.  Those loved ones who have gone on before us to eternity were with us in spirit as we recalled them fondly, sharing some of their stories and experiences that we remembered.

Families are special--do not take them for granted!  When we are young, we often don't see the need to stay in touch with far-flung relations, but now, I want to re-establish relationships with as many of my extended family as I can.  My father is no longer here, and my mother is in very poor health.  I see that the path ahead for my extended family will become obscured if I do not seek to light it by reaching out to those family members I can now.

I have boxes of old black-and-white photographs inherited from my parents.  In many cases, nobody is left who knows the people in them!  One of these days, I'll be throwing them out, but I'm not ready to do that just yet, because I do recognize a long-ago face here and there, but I'm the only one in my immediate family who does.  One thing I've always done is write names and dates on the backs of our photos. In that way, our grandchildren will someday be able to place all those faces!

A portion of the farm where my mother and
her nine siblings grew up in the 1920s and 30s

Recently, our granddaughter Alexa, age six, saw a photo of my dad, known to our daughters as Papa Duke.  Of course, Alexa never met him since he passed away a number of years before she came along.  She said wistfully, "I love Papa Duke . . .  and I miss him, too."  I reminded her that she had never met him (silly me), but with the wisdom of a child, she replied, "Well, I can still miss him, can't I??"  She feels as if she does know him, because I've tried to keep the grandchildren (his great grandchildren) acquainted with him through the stories he told us and the zany experiences he had when he was with us.  In fact, the granddaughters often ask for "Papa Duke stories" when we are together.

For instance, they love the story about the time I substituted a rubber hot dog for a real one on his plate at a family cookout when I was a teenager:  he had put the mustard, ketchup, chili, onions, and coleslaw on it (the way we like it in the South), but when he tried to take that first bite, the entire "dog" came out of the bun since he couldn't bite through it.  The look on his face was classic!  Another story they love is when Papa Duke imitated a mosquito that had somehow managed to get trapped in the freezer and then flew out erratically when the door was opened a little while later.  My feeble attempt to imitate him makes them laugh!  (You'd have to be there, I suppose.)

I believe he approves.