Sunday, April 28, 2002
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Sunday, April 28, 2002 |
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Family is where it's at By MARY JANE HOLT
"Would you like anything from the buffet while I'm up?" "Yes, I'd like a piece of that chocolate cake." "There's only one slice left." "I'll take it." Gasps went up around the room. "I know! Mama always told me not to take the last piece of anything, but along about the time I turned 50, I started taking the last piece of anything I wanted." Laughter rang out in the extended dining area. Most folks in that never to be forgotten setting identified. I, who have been eating dessert first for years, saw much wisdom in the revelation that had been laid out before us. I suspect there are, in all families, never-to-be-forgotten moments packed with extraordinary tidbits of wisdom, joy, peace and comfort. Moments we hold to our breast, deep in the corners of our hearts, for times when we no longer are surrounded by those we love and those who love us. I am most blessed. No one who has come before me, or who will follow after me, can ever know more joy than I have known in more ways than I can count. It is awkward to make that claim, knowing how much pain and suffering there is in the world. It is my claim, however, and I make it reverently. You see, I come from a really big family. The oldest of seven kids, my dad was youngest of four and my mom was number eight in a family of eleven children. All this before I ever married a man who was the youngest of seven and whose parents also hailed from very large families. Family is where it's at! There is no end to what "it" can teach you. The variety of ways in which "it" can sustain you, restore you, fortify you, and empower you also are endless. It is said that we all may be subject to fifteen minutes of fame sooner or later. I don't know about that, but if I ever did make any claim to fame I would want that claim to somehow revolve around my having been born in Miller County. That would be Colquitt, Georgia, in the good old USA. That's real important because if you are from Miller County, you can always go home again. And going home again should not to be taken lightly. It is not to be confused with knowing where you've come from. That's important too. It helps you to get where you are going. But to actually be able to go home again is a rare and precious thing. I went home to Colquitt again this past weekend to celebrate Aunt Benonia's passing. We don't just bury folks. A funeral is really only incidental to the way we celebrate the exit our loved ones make from the bodies they live in while on earth, although the funerals are indeed something to talk about! Yep, Aunt Benonia's the one I wrote about a year or so ago. The one who due to a long, long illness had experienced more dyin's that any other family member ever known to the clan. It was on April 17 that she finally left this earth. Well.... actually, she may not have left until after the service. She wanted real bad to hang around for it, and if there was any way possible I'm sure she did. What's more, I'm sure she enjoyed it! I know I did. Don't think I've ever enjoyed anybody's dyin' celebration quite so much. There are the throngs of friends and relatives that come and go. There's an endless supply of food and drink brought in by friends and neighbors. The children quickly and easily figure out how to entertain themselves. Hugs, laughter, tears abound.
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