Hit Me With Your Best Shot Grampa!
It's odd how certain memories stand out which at the time, you don't realize they're the ones which mean so much. I have a picture in my head from a Thanksgiving in Kentucky when both my grandparents were still alive.
They raised me most of my life and every holiday found us sitting around the round oak table on antique chairs enjoying traditional foods and family gathering. Grampa would always play the piano or the old organ, and we'd move around the small house preparing foods and drinking beer or wine (these were the legal aged days when I could do that, otherwise it was ginger ale and cranberry juice mix for me!).
On this particular day, our holiday shared was one of the last ones when we'd all be together. I didn't know this at the time, but a certain intuitive poignant hesitancy overcame me at one point during that meal, as if the images of my family were purposefully frozen inside me for this very reason.
I was with my dear twin flame at the time, my cousins and aunt with her boyfriend were there, and also my grandparents. All of us sat around that old round table eating and laughing at silly things while stuffing our bellies, and George had brought some homemade blackberry wine to share along with the ice cream.
Outside it began to snow, big gigantic beautiful flakes pouring out of the sky in a most exciting way and as we ate by the window the snow gathered outside, beckoning us with her random frolic!
I was surprised and pleased when my 80 something year old grampa suddenly leapt up from his dinner chair and grabbed his coat and gloves with a playful grin on his face. Suddenly we were all outside throwing snowballs at each other, my grampa could throw a hard wallop I discovered!
It was spontaneous and wonderful to be outside in the white wonderland dodging snowballs from Aunts and Uncles, cousins and grandparents! By the time we'd finished our romp, we were soaked and smiley, rosy cheeked and laughing. My boyfriend and I went out back still caked with snow dread locks, and formed giant blocks with garbage cans and made an igloo . . . I was a grown up kid playing with my best friend on thanksgiving day.
My grandparents have both died of cancer since then, and my beautiful boyfriend of that time is now married to his soul mate and they're due to have baby. They live right next door to that childhood home of mine so Goddess has designed our life so we must always keep track of each other. I used to think of this as a punishment but now see the divine beauty in our soul connection, no matter what form it's taken.
I'm living far away from my Kentucky home town right now, and my first born is about to go to college. Our Thanksgivings are still nice and warm, for the most part. I was blessed with a wonderful extended family of my grandma's only sister and her children.
There's always a bit of zany hooha which goes on in chaotic moments because, I do have one of the most eccentric mothers on earth - and I'll be writing about that sometime. Thus, I'm a bit stressed and messed like many of us are, due to family freaky weirdness during holiday season.
But I still feel a sadness sometimes, more like a nostalgic longing, when I sit down at any holiday table . . . be they in Ohio or PA or MI, - wherever we happen to be gathering at the time.
I can't help but miss my grampa and gramdma and those days when my family bond felt so tight, and our tradition of piano music and silly homemade wine prevailed.
I closed my eyes today and could almost feel a snowball whiz by my cherry red nose!