A Respectful Afternoon

Road Trip Day 4: After a late breakfast on day 4 I felt I wanted to go to the cemetery to pay my respects to my dear Aunt Hazel. She was loving, loyal, a hard worker, generous, lived for her family. She taught me how to cook southern style every summer when I visited and immersed me in their culture.She would tell me to grab my pocketbook and let's go loafering! And Oh could that woman ever talk, for hours, about nothing. I surprisingly liked that.She was precious to me and although we had said our good byes last summer when she was helping to write her Eulogy, I was unable to attend her funeral over Thanksgiving and felt I had really missed out on something important.

You know I'm not a fan of drama and public displays of emotion but when I leaned down to gingerly touch, and then clean my Aunt's headstone I felt greatly grieved. And I missed her. It was my first trip to N.C. that I didn't see her smiling face and accept her "sugar" while trying not to grimace. Everyone on our side of the mountain is still feeling raw around the edges of their mourning. As they like to say we are all feeling tore up over her passing.

Her husband, my Uncle Richard passed away 18 years earlier in 1990. He would take me hiking and exploring all over in places my mother would never approve of me going. He talked and demonstrated as he walked along. He knew everything about the trees and the snakes that populate the area and of which I am deathly afraid.He had so many funny tales of he and his brothers exploits around these mountains. Just when I thought I had heard it all he would come up with another tale and  I'd discover a new piece of our family puzzle. It was like hiking with a relevant and interesting history book. Each summer when it was time for me to return to Michigan I always missed them the most.

Now I have my cousin David and some of his children and grandchildren to share memories with. We are striving to keep the stories alive and relevant and to teach these values to the next generation.

 On my last stop I had to see my Uncle James who had shocked us with his untimely death 4 years ago. After years of diminishing health and back problems they had done a heart procedure that really seemed to breath new energy into my tallest uncle whose nickname was treetop.

He seemed to be on a roll, able to move about more freely and having more energy than he had in years. That spring flu season hit hard. Both he and my dad came down with an unruly case. Subsequently my Uncle was hospitalized and entered a downward spiral that he never came out of and he passed, leaving his very close family shell shocked to say the least.

I flew down to the funeral all by myself and picked up my rental car which ended up being a very fast black Mustang. I felt a wee bit conspicuous tooling around the mountains in that car but all my male cousins got a big kick out of it. My Uncle James was a very quiet and humble man and our visits rarely had much conversation but instead companionable quiet and that was ok with the both of us. I do however recall some pretty wild rides on the back of his jeep up and around trails and through mountain passes- so maybe the mustang was a fitting ride for the funeral after all.

We spent a fair amount of time their taking in the air, pulling weeds and trimming back grass around the headstones of our loved ones.

Later I tried to explain to my 13 year old daughter who was with us how important these simple rituals were to men like my dad. It demonstrated to him that I had not forgotten to miss these dear people even though I live 600 miles away. And it comforts him to have us there as a matter of respect to these family members that he spent so much of his life with.

I was proud of her, she didn't roll her eyes once or act bored. She didn't say much but just followed along thinking. When we got in our own car and followed my dad back up the mountain home she said she thought it was a fine way to spend 30 minutes if it could make Grandpa happy and show him that we cared about the same things he did.

That made me so happy.

It's Not All About The Turkey

Thanksgiving 2008: Part II

It’s safe to say that the food is very important, I think we covered that topic earlier this week. It’s definitely the most time consuming.

But that’s not what it is all about.

The beverages play a crucial part. This is my husband’s job for most occasions. Stocking the bar. Period.
Oh, and putting real clothes on (versus his “working at home” uniform of sweat pants and a patagonia).
It’s a job he enjoys. He likes to shop and he likes to pick out wine. So this is a good fit for him.

Here’s my recipe for a memorable and fun holiday.

1. Good food
2. Creative drinks
3. Interesting people ( I hate to be bored)
4. Thankful hearts
5. Lots of humor

Keep in mind, we do hospitality around here vs entertaining. There’s a big difference. Although a tremendous amount of effort can go into
a weekend of socializing, it never turns out perfectly. Something outrageous is bound to happen or go wrong. A recipe will flop. Someone will get their feelings
hurt. Someone will forget to flush the toilet or heaven forbid plug it up. Something will get broken.

Plan B is always put into place and that is to have fun and enjoy your time together no matter what the circumstances.

It looks something like this:
And like this.

And this

And last but not least

What’s amazing is that this whole gang of people actually like each other. It takes a lot of effort to all come together- but it’s exactly where we want to be.