Family Reunion: My Father and His Two Sisters

It was as lovely a July day as they make them, with just about perfect temperatures, a mixture of sun and clouds, and a nice breeze. How fortunate we were that the weather worked out so nicely for the annual family reunion of my father's side of the family.

Each July, on the Sunday closest to my Grandma's birthday (July 11, 1895), we get together at the hunting camp my dad and brother and cousins belong to, hang out on the porch swapping stories, walk up to the falls on Lost Creek, and then sit down for a family feast.

My cousin and I tend to lead the pack when we go on the hike to the falls. We stop a lot for pictures, she with her Canon PowerShot SX50 HS, and me with the same camera model, only the newer version, the SX60 HS. (I loved my SX50 but it croaked on me last fall, much to my heartache.)

The woods were beautiful and green, full of tall trees and clean water. No matter what the summer weather is like elsewhere, back on the mountain where I grew up, it is always cool and green and shady.

So we went on our hike, we took a bunch of pictures, we waded in the creek (as I am apparently wont to do, given the slightest provocation), and then we headed back to the cabin for a fine meal. I am not sure I can list everything we had, but here were a few: my mother's ham, baked macaroni and cheese, several luscious desserts, at least two kinds of baked beans, barbecued chicken, my sister's cole slaw, fruit salad, green bean casserole, several pasta salads, deviled eggs, pigs in blankets, scalloped potatoes, watermelon, and - Lord have mercy - my Aunt Dorothy's broccoli and cauliflower salad.

Then we cleared the table and cleaned things up, and stuffed leftovers back into coolers, and I tried to gather some of the family together for pictures. I posed the family elders for several shots from the front, and they all obliged. But then as I was walking away, I looked back and saw my father sitting with his arms around his two sisters.

I couldn't resist another shot, and the resulting photo above pleases me in ways I can't even explain. That's Dorothy on the left (she of the broccoli salad) and Ella Mae on the right; my father is Lee, in the middle. Some of you who have been around a while may recall a similar shot of the three of them a few years back: My Father and His Two Sisters, Laughing.

My mother, alas, at the age of 86, is the last member of her immediate family still living. My dad is 87; of my father's immediate family, just the three above remain (brothers Lewis and Jim have gone on before). Ella Mae, the oldest, was about seven when my dad was born, and she held him every chance she could get. She told me once she thought he was the best thing invented since sliced bread.

I love the way my father's arms are encircling his two remaining siblings in this shot. His hold seems tender and yet firm and protective. Their heads are all leaning toward each other, fully engaged, as they are laughing at some secret joke, or maybe just sitting together being happy, as I hear siblings sometimes do.

Just as we had sat down for the meal, I took another shot that pleased me. And I realized later that it represented both the oldest and the youngest attendees at our family reunion. In the extras you may find that shot, of my Aunt Ella Mae, age 94, and her great-grandson Matthew, who will turn three months old next week. Quite a range of ages were represented!

I am grateful for the opportunity to visit with family again. I am grateful for the things that bring us together, for good food, and for fellowship, and for time spent refreshing my body and spirit in the beautiful woods and waters where I grew up. And I am grateful as grateful can be for family, the circle that will never end. The song is by Alan Jackson, Alison Krauss, Vince Gill, and a host of others: Will the Circle Be Unbroken.