On my mother’s side there are eleven grandkids. My sister is the oldest, she’s 31. My youngest cousin Bryn is ten, only four years older than my son. Because we are spread all over the country and the older of us are busy with college and careers there has never been a time we have all been gathered until today. For fifteen minutes we were together at Fort Snelling to bury my grandpa. The five boys were pallbearers and the six girls huddled together in tears. After the boys set Grandpa down he received a 21 gun salute, then a bugler played Taps. They folded the flag and presented it. After that my uncle, who is a minister, spoke and the ceremony was over.
So, eleven puffy eyed kids were ordered by our mothers, despite the fact that the bulk of us are legal, to pose for the first ever complete grandkid photo.
Korbyn, Broderick, Kristiane, Eric, Richelle, Kyle, Anthony, Ally, Bryn, Rachel and Sarah.
We are now officially the second generation. Some of us have kids and in twenty years some of us will be grandparents ourselves. I still remember twenty years ago when us older kids would run around causing our version of trouble. This usually involved shaking cans of Coke and asking an adult to open it for us. Please don’t let me forget how much fun that was when my son does this to me. I hope he has as great a bunch to run around with as I do.
My mother is one of nine kids. That means maternally, I have 31 first cousins…I’m 48 and seven are younger than me. The rest are older by as much as 12 years.
The cousins try to get together at family reunions…we call them “A Cousins’ Party”. We get together and drink, eat and usually compare progress in each others’ therapies. There were many issues involved with being children of the siblings of this particular family. It feels good to vent. It’s also a trip to look around the room or the backyard and see so many people who share your gene pool…to a degree, anyway.
Most are married with kids…some are now even grandparents, verging on greatgrandparents. That’s a strange reality.
Cousins are an interesting measure of time. You played together as kids…then one day, you realize that your grandchildren are now playing together.
Take care, K.
Grandpa would have loved this. It was a little strange to be doing this photo 30 seconds after Grandpa’s burial service… Grandpa has the coolest group of grandchildren, and he would be very happy that we’d take the opportunity for the picture!
Taps is tough to take but it makes you swell with pride. I remember when my grandfathers passed away and for that brief time while they played taps after the 21 gun salute I felt so proud to be in that family. You and your family are in my heart and my prayers.
Thank you for indulging us. It means so much.
That day I felt alot of emotions. That day I felt sad because my grandpa who came to alot of the sporting events died and I will miss his at all of the things he would be there for. A second is that is was kind of happy because I know that grandpa is in a better place with our lord and savior. I remember at the last band concert I had I was happy to see grandpa there but then I relized that he would not be coming to it.