Family

This Saturday was my uncle Manuel's funeral.  He was my moms older brother and passed away two weeks ago.  He had liver and kidney problems and was certainly not old enough to die.  It has been very hard on my mom and has been difficult for me to see.  

The past few weeks I have been reflecting on many aspects of life; taking care of yourself, forgiveness, happiness, making good choices but mostly the importance of family.  I am fortunate to have great families on both sides but I have been thinking mostly about my moms side recently. My mom comes from a large family.  She has three brothers and a sister, aunts, uncles and cousins coming out her ears and so many family friends who are called aunt or uncle that sometimes the relation is not even clear.  This weekend I was able to see many of them.  When I was a child we visited San Antonio often and I saw my relatives regularly.  As we have all gotten older, the family visits are less and less frequent.  In fact, I saw some cousins this weekend that I had not seen in years.  It is unfortunate that we can only find the time to gather when someone has passed away.  Sadly, this is the reality of busier schedules, more commitments and lots and lots of people.

When I was younger I remember dreading the car trip to San Antonio and sleeping in my grandmothers uncomfortable bed next to my sister and having to take a bath in the creepy green bathtub (which is still in the house by the way).  But now I cherish those memories.  I remember my grandparents floral printed velvet couches and their giant wooden television that, gasp, did not have a remote control where I would watch wheel of fortune with my Grandpa.  I remember the creaky floorboards and not being able to reach the lock at the top of the bathroom door.  I remember drinking lots and lots of Big Red out of Solo cups.  I remember playing in the backyard while my grandmother was inside cooking and my Grandpa sat outside in a lawn chair sucking on lemons all afternoon.  I remember one cousin crashing through a plate glass door, one walking across hot coals, one pulling out all my grandmas jewelry and one eating an entire pound bag of M&M's. Nothing can replace those memories.

I pray that I can give those same kinds of memories to my children. I want them to know their family. I want them to remember how much they hated the nine hour drive to Mississippi and sleeping in the bunk beds at the lake and getting in trouble for throwing toys with their cousins.  I want them to know how important family is and that it cannot be replaced by anything.