Into the garden of delight that is what it feels like when I come home.
Every Monday my Mother watches any of the Grandchildren who want to come over. Plus she makes dinner for the whole family.
Last night I was home… it has been nearly three months since I sat at her table, and yet it felt like I hadn't missed one bite of that holiness that I call family, and yet I have.
My Mother made several hot dishes, a salad, rolls and dessert. She served it buffet style, the children sat in one room and the adults in the other. Though we sit wherever we want– unless you are my brother Zane. You see Zane's son Warren is the youngest in the family and he always saves a seat for his Daddy.
The dinner is come as you are, plus big helpings of loud, delicious and plenty.
Last night there were eighteen of us: Eight adults and ten children.
During the dinner my four brothers brought several types of beer to share, they poured the beer in my Mother's vintage Christmas glasses, filling the glasses to the green barn which is painted on the Christmas glasses.
I don't drink beer, either does my Mother… in fact I think the drinking of local and imported beers in my Mom's vintage Christmas glasses is a new tradition only my brothers indulge in.
My dad would have been right at home with a Christmas glass filled with beer, surrounded by his sons.
I did have turkey.
Last night my brother Zane poured me a glass of beer in the Christmas glasses just to the green barn and said, "Toss it back."
At first I thought, "I don't like the taste of beer, there are too many calories, I'll get a headache…."
… Then I looked at my four brothers enjoying themselves in the garden of delight called home, family, shared moments, talking about the flavors of Hophead, comparing it to Wheat Farmer, popping off the beer lids with an old knife, laughing at old repeated stories, and I saw that I had a chance to taste that delight or miss the opportunity…
They filled my Christmas glass, I drank in their happy grown faces, listened to stories, jokes, and children running in and out. I drank in my childhood home, the family pictures on the wall, my beautiful sister in laws, my Mother in the kitchen doing dishes. I felt the cold beer go down to the center of my being and savored every drop of homecoming.
Next Monday night I am bringing a bottle of beer for the sampling.
Sometimes the best thing we can do is right in front of us– asking us to lighten up alittle and toss it back.
Leave a Reply