But when we do, it's pure loveliness.
And there's usually hot coffee brewing, quickly in hand.
Followed by hours of stories, tears (we all swear the emotional cry is an inherited gene) and shared laughter.
You see, half of my upbringing is all thanks to the love and strength of this patriarch...
And this matriarch, who as a five year-old stood on her front porch spying shyly on a little boy named Dean walk by and declared to her unexpecting mother, "I'm going to marry that boy." And she did.
And this is how the legacy began.
One of gardens and flowers.
And deliciousness.
And loving the one you married for better or worse, in sickness and in health. More about that here.
(Somehow I forget to ever include ourselves in the busyness of snapping shots of others. I love my husband too. And there's a picture of us here.)
Yes this legacy means praying before meals, usually with a long intermittent pause to swallow a lump of precious emotion, too grateful to continue with words.
Oh gratitude. This legacy is full of gratitude.
Gratitude for family, family by blood, married in family, and growing born in family.
Family to learn from.
Family to make memories with.
Family to play with.
Family to laugh with.
Family to lounge with.
And to tell stories with.
Family to grow up with.
It was beautiful growing up in this family.
And now, I'm watching, in wonder, at my own little growing family.
I'm so thankful.
We can be a little bit of a silly family.
We have our quirks.
But I hope we're raising our children with the legacy of gratitude for the life we were given.
Because it's beautiful.
And it goes so quickly.
