We Go WA-A-AY Back

I actually can't believe that the waitress just took one photo, and we all managed to have our eyes open with decent looks on our faces. It must have had something to do with the sopapillas we'd just finished. :)

The three beautiful women with me in this picture have been a part of my consciousness for as long as I can remember. Dixie Harrison, seated, is my first cousin. June Street, on my right, is my aunt (although she's six months younger than I am). Ginger Murphy, on my left, is my 2nd cousin, but I've always considered her to be a much closer relative than that. We came into the world between May of 1950 to May of 1952. We were little girls together, and we shared holidays and family births, deaths, weddings, picnics and whatever else we or our parents could think up. From a "blood" perspective, we share one primary common relative -- Queenie Leola Griggs Rose, who was June's mother, Ginger's aunt, and mine and Dixie's grandmother.

One of our strongest bonds is music. Three of us actually have college degrees in music and have taught piano or voice for years, besides leading church choirs or accompanying for them. The other had years of piano lessons and giggled her way through many-a-duet during the dreaded recitals.

Between us, we have 9 children (ranging in age from 37 to 17), 17 grandchildren (from age 15 to 3 weeks from being born), and 3 remaining parents who are now in their 80's. We are all card-carrying Southern Baptists. These facts alone should give us plenty of material for conversation, but just think of all the extended family members we have in common and whose "stories," personalities, issues, and quirks provide share-worthy material.

Getting us together is a lot like herding cats because of the various paths we each travel and the demands on our time. So, yesterday when we found ourselves in one place for a couple of hours -- Rosie's Mexican Restaurant celebrating Cinco de Mayo -- it was a rare, delightful time for us all.

Our moaning and groaning over age-related aches and pains has definitely increased in the last twenty years, but there are still things we continue to do that we did as little girls -- share secrets, exaggerate our tall tales, laugh a lot, and fight back tears. Our ancestors are legendary for being soft-hearted.

There were years when we were great geographical distances apart -- California, South Florida, South America, etc. But, at this stage of our lives, we're within an hour's drive of each other, so I hope we can find times to connect more often.

I wonder what our picture will look like 20 years from now. Will somebody please roll our wheelchairs to a cozy corner when we can no longer do it for ourselves? This Quartet (1st and 2nd soprano, 1st and 2nd alto) needs to keep laughing and loving for a long time to come.