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.
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.