here today

 

FAMILY REUNION

My grandmother Effie had 11 children. ELEVEN. She got pregnant and delivered 11 babies. Not one or two or six or eight.

E---leven.

She stopped this activity, from what I can tell, only because her husband died. (run over by a train while drunk, which is really another story for another day which ends with my college roommate's grandfather dying the same way - though with a different train). and I don't know if it's because they didn't get a lot of attention growing up, there being so many of them, or if it's genes (um, let's hope not) or what but most of them are truly psychotic. And, just like grandma, boy can they procreate.

So, I avoid family reunions. But this one, this time, my mom got me. First of all, the reunion lasted for five days. FIVE DAYS. Five. I got out of the first three by having a job. But she got me on the weekend. Mom is persistent.

My ideal family gathers on an island somewhere for the reunion or rents a villa in Tuscany. A few of the family's fabulous cooks throw together something simple - you know, using the local produce, and we all sit down at a long table outside and someone makes a speech and then someone else tells a story and we pass wine around and the kids and dogs run naked and later that night I take a walk with my cousins and we compare interesting lives and our husbands all like each other and when it's over we can't wait to plan the next one. Ahh.

That was not yesterday.

Yesterday, nobody drank wine. The long table was filled with crockpots and KFC and at the end of the night, my artichoke spread was untouched and everyone's raving about Rhonda's ham'n'beans. Aunt Jane stole some food, kids were everywhere and some of them smelled bad. Clydine made a speech but it was not funny though everyone else laughs. The whole thing would have been easier were I drunk but I can't drink because my family loves Jesus and hates beer.

We gather for pictures and my mom beams at me and The Husband and we smile back and for the camera and I see that this day-use park with kind of dirty bathrooms is her villa in Italy. This is it, and she's happy that I'm here with my weird food and no kids and men's pants.

I drank three beers when I got home and today my head hurts. But no more reunions. 

till next year.

Posted by: 120pages at 11:18 | link | comments |