Reunions

This past weekend my four sisters, brothers-in-law, and I gathered for a long-overdue reunion. They drove from Lewisville, North Carolina, Prestonsburg, Kentucky, and Alto, Michigan, to gather here in Lakeville, and in a sister’s home in Lake Orion.

At this moment, my Kentucky sister and her husband awake for the last leg of their odyssey with Sadie McCoy’s daughters and sons-in-law.

For they return to Kentucky today to the open arms of their children and grandchildren. As my other two out-of-town sisters, they return to their homes, work, and various commitments to spin this world by the power of their love and grace.

My mixed emotions run high, wide, and deep as I consider putting on a pot of oatmeal with the fixings for my departing company.

I hope my guests are pleased with their last meal at my kitchen table for this particular time in our family history.

Flashbacks of my young family’s breakfasts with my mother seated at her Kentucky kitchen table tug at memory.

How we loved her biscuits and gravy! Oh, the mess we left in the kitchen for her to clean up alone the morning we drove away for Michigan.

I’ve not mastered Mom’s biscuits and gravy, yet have leftover currant lemon lavender and mocha pecan scones I baked for the weekend.

I set our breakfast table of three with a large bowl of leftover fresh berries and determine to be brave after my guests drive away.

I will return to my “routine”, as Mom would say, with thanksgiving.

Yet, I can’t dismiss the image of my mother alone in her home, linger in the past to give gratitude for her love and devotion to her five daughters and sons-in-law, and sixteen grandchildren.

Perhaps gathering with my four sisters last night around Mom’s dining room table provoked this nostalgia. My older sister inherited our mother’s beautiful dining room set including table, chairs, and buffet, and thus hosted this communal conclusion to our weekend.

Now, once my sister and her husband depart from my home, to-go coffee cups in hand, I will repeat the pattern my mother endured several decades.

Well, perhaps “endured” isn’t the proper word, for my mother truly delighted in cooking, baking and setting a beautiful, bountiful table for her family.

However, I can’t help but believe that once her house fell silent again, a familiar loneliness filled the emptiness within in her home and heart.

Now, three hours after my company left, my cats Mitty and Cuddles follow me and my laundry basket downstairs. I open the lid to the washing machine and toss in the first of two loads of bedsheets.

As I refill my pets’ kibble dishes, I’m amused by the memory of the dormitory Mom had built in her attic to fit three beds for her growing granddaughters.

Indeed, my mother provided every comfort, including a pantry and freezer stocked with sweets to attract her offspring and sons-in-law to her home.

Contact Iris at irisfarmletters@gmail.com