My Mother's family is holding a reunion this weekend on the banks of the Puget Sound, and from my home in the Ozarks, I am with them in spirit, remembering campfires with lots of singing and laughter, and more than enough love to go around.
When I was growing up, our family often visited our Puget Sound relatives in the summer. We anticipated those visits long before we went, and savored the memories long after. One summer, my cousin Gayetta, whom I admired tremendously, taught me to make little crab houses in the the sand on the shore, and crab hospitals, and crab schools, and entire crab communities. I don't think the crabs we imprisoned there were nearly as appreciative as we might have hoped.
Before Jeri Ann was born, I was the smallest cousin, and as such, had the distinction of being the only one whose hand was tiny enough to reach down into the pop machine on the porch of the old Keyport Store, to retrieve discarded bottle caps. I don't recall why they were such treasures, but I loved the attention I received for my services.
At Uncle Dick and Aunt Gloria's, we spent hours playing round robin ping pong in the basement, and the older cousins, who were seasoned players, never grumbled about the little ones slowing down their game.
Now, some of those people I remember fondly are holding reunions in heaven, and the children of the next generation will be building their own memories on the banks of the Puget Sound.
Since my youth, O God, you have taught me,and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds.
Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, O God,
till I declare your power to the next generation,your might to all who are to come.
Your righteousness reaches to the skies, O God,you who have done great things.
Who, O God, is like you?