I grew up in a huge family. More cousins than I can count. For thanksgiving, we would all get together at my grandparent’s house. When I close my eyes, I can still smell the food and hear my uncles washing the dominoes in the basement. The house was small, tiny to be exact. But I swear we would have what had to be over 100 people in there. Most of us lived in Kansas City, but relatives would home from all over to spend time with each other. We had a tight bond.
I remember loading our van up with my mother’s world famous cake and driving across state lines from KCMO to KCK for dinner. Everybody would bring something, and after saying the longest of prayers, we would finally eat. The food was always good, but what I remember most is the laughs, the smiles, the genuine joy that I felt. I remember waiting to see who would come in the house next, who could I get to give me a dollar, how many disposable cups would my auntie wash this year.
All the kids my age would run around the house making up games to keep us entertained. My favorite was “FIGHT.” The room in the basement had one light bulb in it that was controlled by a long string switch in the middle of the room. We would turn the light out and you guessed it, fight, until somebody found that string and turned the light back on. After what felt like ten minutes, one of us would finally yank on that switch to reveal the damage. Little black boys and girls going at it. Real punches, tight headlocks, kicks below the belt, there were no rules to fight. If you were in the room when the light went out, you better start swinging. “Yall ain’t gonna be happy until somebody gets hurt!” A mama would yell. A serious injury usually did end the game.
Other than my kids, I didn’t see any of my blood relatives today. We are spread out all over the country. The reality of the situation is that things will never be the same. After my grandparents passed and we got older, things changed. Unfortunately, the most likely time we will all get together again is at the next funeral. I sent out a text to some of the cousins that I grew up the closest with, let them know that I love them and I miss them.
Today felt different, more like a regular Thursday than thanksgiving. We had a small family dinner at my in laws. It was a nice time, just different. I miss the old days. But you can’t miss what you never had, and I am so grateful that I had them.
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How blessed are we to have those memories! Thank you for sharing.
Your writing opened a door to the past for me.
#thankful for you
Thank you for sharing this Ryan. Since my dad passed in 2018, things, especially holidays, seem the be fractured. We’ve always been a small family so when one person passes, the impact is immense. My only child is estranged as of 2021, so this has shrunk us to a family of 3 now. Memories, however, sustain us if we let them. The smells, the “fight” games, the music...all of it...better to have had than not...or atleast that’s what they say. Thanks again for the vulnerability about what was even when you have good around you.