My morning started with the phone ringing and my sister’s future husband (yeah, the ink isn’t even dry on the divorce yet and husband #3 is on the hook) was on the other end, telling me my sister was having severe abdominal pain. Considering she’s had a history of ovarian cycts that are never anything threatening, but can be extremely painful, it was my guess that it was another one of those. I handed them off to Mom and started working on getting woke up enough to work out the morning’s stiffness. Next thing I know, my mother is on her way over to get my nephew because my sister and her fiance are headed to the hospital. Uh… did ya’ll forget that we’ve told my aunt to expect us all for the cook-out? Don’t we need to figure out a plan of some sort? Call and cancel? Regroup? What???
For those who aren’t aware, I don’t work well without some sort of plan, some sense of order, or at least an inkling of what to expect in my day and suddenly, here we are all in a tailspin. Yes, I know, sudden and unexpected abdominal pain is far more important than my need for the aforementioned, but I say that’s a matter of opinion! He, he. Therefore, I put the brakes on and got the details I needed. We had to leave a little later than planned and two people short, but we did make it!
Then the real chaos ensued! My aunt has this big, wrap around porch (its a southern thing) that makes an excellent riding place for tricycles, scooters, and other ride-ons, so you know every kid in attendance had to pick a ride and go nuts. Unfortunately, the porch was where we all wanted to sit and it was the only area with enough chairs to accomodate us all, as well. So we have chairs and loungers pushed back against walls and railings, making a path for the Jr. Grand Prix. Sparing names to protect the guilty, let me list the children by age:
- boy 8 yrs.
- girl 7 yrs.
- boy 5 yrs.
- boy 3 yrs.
- boy 2 yrs.
- boy 6 mo.
- boy 12 days hmmm… our family seems overly blessed/cursed with boys, doesn’t it?
All the kids, exept the new baby of course, were either riding, pedaling, or pushing something. We tucked our feet under our chairs and it all seemed to be working well, for a while. Then it happened… the three oldest kids were fighting over one scooter. The 3 and 2 yr olds were fighting over a little car. The moms were fussing at the kids… the grandmas were fussing at the moms… CHAOS, friends and neighbors! Utter CHAOS! But ya know what? I LOVED IT!
When I was younger, my grandparents always had their kids and grandkids over for Thanksgiving. That’s BOTH sides of the family, mind you! There was always two Christmases and two Thanksgivings. We spent time with Mom’s family at lunch and Dad’s family at dinner. At my maternal grandmother’s house, we had some family living out-of-state and I remember getting so excited weeks before Thanksgiving, filled with the anticipation of getting to see my much loved and greatly missed cousins. When we were all accounted for on Turkey Day, there was Grandma and Grandpa, their 7 children with their 7 spouses, and 17 of us grandkids! And let’s not forget Great-Granny, Great-Uncle George and all the other people who just stopped in to see everyone! I’ll bet over 50 people ate at my Granny’s dinner table (in shifts of course) each Thanksgiving! What’s more, she lived in a modest little 3-bedroom house, but we all somehow seemed to fit inside those walls. The men gathered in the living room, drinking their hot toddies (coffee and moonshine with a tad of sugar), the women gathered in the kitchen, and we kids just bounced around all over the place! And it was exactly the same then… the kids would get too loud or too rowdy, the mom’s would start fussing and busting, then Granny would step in and save us all.
Being at my aunt’s today, surrounded by family and kids and noise and good food and gossip… well, it all felt like going home! And OH HOW I HAVE MISSED HOME! In case you didn’t know, I was a Grandma and Papa’s girl. Don’t get me wrong… I love my parents dearly (even though I’m punishing Dad by not speaking to him at the moment), but my Granny and Papa were my WORLD and they always made me feel the center of theirs! Yep.. the favorite out of 17 grandchildren! And yes I am bragging about that, I guess. Everyone should feel that special at some time in their life and that was my time. No shame in that! No one else seemed to mind, either. Who would be jealous of working the garden, mowing the grass, mowing the cemetary, snapping beans, shoveling snow, working on autos? Man… if they only knew what they missed out on! I spent nearly every day of my young life with them (we lived next door) and Ganny and Papa were HOME! Grandpa left us in 1994 and Granny in 2005, but I still suffer the worst kind of home-sickness a body has ever been inflicted with for each of them. Today, however, the chaotic mess of kids and the hum of voices competing for the floor really took me back! When I walked by the living room window and heard the TV blaring away, I pictured Papa sitting on the couch, nodding off with a full belly. While we started covering up dishes on the ramshacked table outside, I could picture Granny in the kitchen making sure that anything with mayo or eggs was promptly put in the fridge. Thoughts such as that just kept creeping in today and for a few fleeting moments, I was home!
