My parents' family has grown nearly beyond comprehension. (67 grandkids and at least 77 great grandkids now! can you even imagine?). If all my parents' children, their children's spouses, their grandkids, grandkids' spouses and great grandkids were to be available and gathered at our annual Christmas party, there would be over 200 people present.
I don't know for sure the last time that everyone has been together (too many scattered hither and yon), even so, the Christmas party is the only time I get to see some of my nieces and nephews. It is a happy and hectic time trying to make it around to catch up with each of them. I hope it keeps going for years to come!
And for now, along with a bunch of photos, I'll share the text my oldest brother Mark (who had returned just days earlier, with his wife Darlene [Doll], from a mission in Germany) sent to the siblings after the party:
Precious Darlings.
Please forgive me in advance for a rather long spouting. But I must say something.
Y’all may have noticed that I was sitting on the stage during much of the Christmas party last night. I hope it didn’t bother anyone too much that I was doing so. I kept expecting someone to come along and shoo me off, the way they did with the wee grandkids when members of the talent show were trying to perform.
But I must tell you there was a reason I wanted to keep sitting up there. And it was this. I was in awe. Indeed I was in such awe that I was kind of carried away.
I was in this state of marvel and wonder. I was looking at our Grand Matriarch. This Mother Sharon, to whom this entire vast crowd belonged (by blood or marriage). Now in her ninetieth year. Toodling busily about like the young Relief Society gal she still thinks she is.
And my wondrous Doll. Toodling along beside her.
I was looking at each of my siblings. Whom I have at times, in a variety of ways, taken for granted. Each Tony. Each Kit and Amy. Each John and Rob. Each Shannon, Nancy and Megan. (Each Chris and Aaron, not present last night, but very much part of these thoughts.) How incredible is each of my brothers and sisters! Each in their own way. And how I have come to love them!
And it took some tweaking to get all the combinations right, but how I love these siblings through marriage. Our dear dear Deb. Our Mike. Our Al. Our Missy, Amber, Priscilla (and Allie). And Jason, Mike, and Josh. How I love them! How I rejoice to claim each of them as my brother or sister — if they’ll have me.
I pondered there on the stage, with some concern, the health pains, the testimony issues, and other problems we face. But mostly, I was filled with wonder and joy at this tribe, and being part of it all.
And I sat thinking of our Grand and Noble Patriarch. Our beloved Father Gordon. How he would have rejoiced to have been there and seen his posterity! His expanding and mighty posterity. Yet still only in its tiniest infancy.
I don’t know how it all works with the Spirit World. Was Father Gordon indeed there — in this chapel which he actually helped build, and where he spent countless hours of his life? Was he hovering about in the air? Looking on?
Perhaps. I don’t know.
But this I knew. I knew Father Gordon was not dead but alive. I knew that somewhere, on some level, he is aware of us and how we are doing. I felt certain that he had at least some knowledge of this very gathering of his posterity across the Veil.
And I felt certain. That each of his children, his grandchildren, and great-grandchildren — down to the tiniest of them scrambling about — meant everything to him.
And I knew we shall see him again.
.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment