Ahhh, Family

Today we drove down to Fitzgerald to connect with my Dad's side of the family for Christmas. Fitz gerald's in south Georgia for those of you that are scared to be out of site of the interstate. It's about an hour and a half south of Warner Robins. Maybe an hour in the Mustang. It's an interesting town. Like most towns in south G-A, it's a typical farm town, but shortly after the civil war it was re-invaded by the north. The post-war years were hard in the northern midwest for farmers, bringing massive droughts and catastrophic crop failure. Word of the hardships reached the farmers of Ben Hill County, who were in the middle of an extremely good year. In good christian fashion, they rounded up a wagon train of donated necessities and sent it north. When the hungry yankees were presented with such bounty, they figured they knew the address of the promised land and moved south. On arrival in Ben Hill County, they were welcomed in and the newly expanded town was officially named and mapped out. Given the unique make-up of the townsfolk the north-south streets were named after Southern generals and the east-west streets were named after Northern generals.
So, we drove down to the town of general streets and met the fam at Tom's Super Country Buffet. We started doing this a couple years ago. They fix a great spread and don't mind that we take up half the joint and hang out for 2 hours. And nobody has to clean their house before and after the party. I'm rare I guess, because I actually enjoy the company of my family. I know some of them are way out of touch, and there's always some you have less in common with than others, but I love them all. I look around the table and see people that have come up from simple backgrounds through hard times and still retain laughter and light. They have thick country accents that I can hear echoed in my own voice, and they laugh the same way I do at the same things. Most of us have hand calloused from honest labor and faces that bear marks of joy and tears in equal measure, but still smile.
We ate and talked, and talked, and talked. After a half hour goodbye, a few of us went to Granny Sexton's grave and the aunts put out some new flowers. Standing there in the strong December sun listening to the wind blow through the marble markers, I looked around at my bloodline, and was proud. Don't worry Granny. We're still here, and we're going to be fine.