We made it to the family reunion dinner. In one of our readings Shayna said that our family is royalty. I am very proud of my family of origin. Not only are most of my family members highly educated and professionals, they are good parents, responsible citizens, dedicated students and have a good sense of family history and our humble beginnings in the South during very difficult times for black people.
The dinner went well. Kayla didn’t go. She was hanging out with her cousins. I spent time with my siblings and their wives. It was actually OK. It was a four hour dinner with tons and tons of meat, held at a Brazilian steakhouse. The other side of my family is the one related to Thomas Jefferson, but my mother’s family is no less interesting even if not as high profile. Our family historian gave a 10 minute presentation.
I sat with my 92 year old aunt for a while. She is one amazing woman, still strong of mind. Too strong, in fact as she refuses to move out of her home. She still insists on attending every event. She made an apple cobbler for the reunion. I haven’t seen her in about a year. She is really slowing down. She jokingly talks about how she used to ask God for big legs. Now, due to swelling, she has them. She still has her sense or humor. She calls herself Tim Conway because her shuffled walk is exactly like the old man he played on the Carol Burnett show. She tells me “Brian, don’t get old.”, the exact advice Tywana’s mother always gives me. Little do they know I have no intention of getting old. I have no desire to get old.
They’re planning next year’s reunion now. Looks like it will be in Philadelphia. Everyone is talking like next year is a given, the word twenty-seventeen rolling so easily off of their tongues as they just all know they’re going to be here on Earth, there in Philadelphia.
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