Not "family vacation- extended", but as in "extended-family vacation". Once again our kind God has been utterly merciful to our family. I haven't been to the south to visit my grandparents since we surprised them at the family reunion back in 2004. That means that Dabney was a 6 month old baby then and now they haven't even met David and Joshua. And even when we did visit in 2004, we didn't visit their homes~ it was a week long beach trip, which was a blast, by the way. But this year? This year, I get to show my husband and children where I've spent countless summers in the past, a place where generations of my family have been born and raised and married and died. A place where my cousins or other relatives live on almost every street in town. A place where my grandparents took my mother home from the hospital to a tiny little house by the railroad tracks. Where my grandmother's ancient pecan tree and grapevines shed a bounty every year. My grandpa's beloved farm house with the creaky steps in the middle of acres and acres of and corn and cows. The dirt roads I used to run down in my bare feet. The sandy soil gets in my toes and in my hair. The cicadas hum all summer long. The town is in my blood. I've lived in a few places in my life, but this town is always the same. That wonderful slow, humid life where you've known your neighbors and their parents for generations. I love coming to this town. I miss it when I'm not there. I try not to be jealous of my cousins and my aunts and uncles because they are raising their children in a place where our ancestors lived down the road and raised my grandparents. I have to be content right now, but I wish we lived closer to my history.
But praise God I get to visit.