Heritage

Today, Grandfather and I had wonderful lunch with a few of the other influential grownups in my younger life: "Mama" Bayer (our gracious hostess for a lovely celebration at the Heritage Club), "Uncle" Fred, and "Aunt" Barbara. Although I'm not technically related to any of these fine folks by blood, I wouldn't hestitate to call them family. They play major parts in the stories of my childhood (the ones I can remember, at least!) and always watched out for me just like they did their own kids. It takes a village, as they say, and I had a really good one...

All In the Family

Last weekend we enjoyed a relaxed mini family reunion. My uncle, who was ten when I was born, came down from Seattle with his wife Mary to visit my beautiful young cousin Laura, who goes to university in Santa Clara. My dad and Debra joined the fun as we congregated at the beach house in Santa Cruz. The February beach weather was still a bit nippy, but we were graced with one sunny day: football was played, kites were flown, holes were dug, and waves were chased.

The highlight of the day, though, is having all those sandy toes under the dinner table. Nothing warms the heart like a simple meal with family -- a big pot of stew, a green salad, and some crusty bread to sop it all up. Dinner table conversation topics always surprise and delight. Mark can tell silly stories about how I pestered him when I was four, Mary always has a knack for getting folks to reveal some before-unknown fact about themselves, and my dad's encyclopedic knowledge lends itself to marvelous tales told with great descriptive detail.

I'm so happy to have these moments with everyone all together. I cherish this more and more as life goes by, and feel sad that we're all spread so far across the country. But for now, I savor the laughter and the smiles, the unexpected glimpses into my own heart. This time with family is so sweet, I forget to serve dessert.