Legacy

This past couple of weeks have been hard.  I got the bad news that my Aunt Pat–who had been battling cancer–lost the fight. Grieving her loss has had me thinking a lot about my family.

These are the Floyds (a good portion of them anyway):

  

 

This is my family and my heritage.  The Floyd’s are my Mom’s side of the family and who I identify with the most.  There was Grandma and Grandpa and my aunts and uncles–the “originals”– as Grandma referred to them: Uncle Larry, Aunt Neve, my Mom’s twin sister, Sharon, my Mom–Karen, Uncle Mark and Uncle David

 

and their spouses–Aunt Veta, Uncle Don, Uncle Keith, my Dad–Mike, Aunt Pat, and Aunt Mary.

These are the people that shaped my entire youth–encouraging me in all my dreams and making sure I never “got too big for my britches”.(I’m still not entirely sure what this means–but I sure heard it a lot)(I guess it was either that I was guilty of eating too much or I was prideful–both are unfortunately still true. Sigh)

I grew up spending nearly every holiday with them and all my cousins at my grandparents’ house in Ulysses, Kansas. But, the holiday that drew most of us together was Labor Day.  I don’t know exactly when it began—some time when I was still in elementary school–that my Grandparents started a camping tradition for Labor Day weekend.  The location of the campsites varied over the years, but the family gathering was nearly always complete.  Starting Friday afternoon–we would meet at the chosen destination– each family arriving and setting up their tents and eagerly awaiting the arrival of the ones to come.

These were the weekends I loved so much– lots of good food, playing in the nearby creek, hiking, sometimes fishing, plenty of visiting and lots of burnt marshmallow “torches” at night.

Grandpa passed away when I was 10 and was the first to leave an empty space in our family.

I have faded memories of my Grandpa, but I do remember him having a huge faith in God (he was never without his Bible) and how much he loved his family –patiently enduring his growing brood of grandkids that were constantly interrupting his naps.

Grandma continued all the traditions–including Labor Day weekend.  We eventually ended up at Alvarado Campground just outside of Westcliffe, CO–meeting there for many years following Grandpa’s passing.  Sometimes there were only a few–many of us cousins were getting married and starting our own families or off to college– but most years we all tried to make it.

Super Rockstar and I got married on Sept. 3, 1994–Labor Day weekend– in Westcliffe, CO.  We both have always loved Colorado, but we also knew that nearly my whole family would already be there for our traditional camping weekend.  I love that our life together began right where many years of family tradition had already been growing.

 

2004 Is the year my Grandma passed away.

 

The empty space left was enormous.  My Grandma was loved for so many wonderful things–always celebrating every single person’s birthday in our family with a home made card, creative craft time with her grand and great grand children, and many, many hours of listening and visiting.  My favorite memory with her is when my cousin Jill and I summited Horn Peak (a near fourteener here in Colorado) with her and got to be there as she was honored as the oldest (at the time) to do so.

 

But what she was known for the most was her faith in God and always teaching the Bible. She spent many hours diligently praying for each of us.  At her funeral there was a jar of Tootsie Pops (a favorite of hers) and a sign that simply read “You know where I am and you know how to get here.”.  Her prayer was always that her family would be unbroken in heaven.

The years following found our Labor Day weekends with fewer and fewer gathering until finally it just ended.  But, even though we cousins didn’t gather together as one anymore–our parents did. It doesn’t usually happen on Labor Day weekend, but once a year my parents, aunts and uncles meet, catch up, swap photos and reminisce.  It was one of my Grandma’s dying wishes that her family stay connected–thanks to their get togethers and social media we have.

2013 another empty space in our family was marked with the passing of my Aunt Neve.

She was a high school English teacher and is the first person to encourage me in writing–helping me fumble my way through freshman college English classes by tutoring me long distance. She is the first of my Mom’s siblings to leave us and the marking of the realization that none of us is getting any younger.  It was then that I recognized that most of our gathering together in the years to come will be a sign that another one of us is no longer here.

Just this past weekend many of us gathered to mourn the empty space left by Aunt Pat.

She and my Uncle Mark had been married for 45 years and all of my memories of her are wonderful.  I never saw her unhappy or sad–she was always smiling.  I owe her my love of making crafts–she was never without some crafting project during our labor day gatherings and would be working away on it while we all sat around and chatted.

All these empty spaces being left in our family reminds me of the movie “The Sandlot”.  At the end of the movie (spoiler alert if you haven’t seen it)(how have you not seen this movie?) the narrator talks how year by year one of them would move away–but they would keep the baseball game going as if the person was still there.

Sometimes it feels that way with our family– there are now 4 really important people missing, but we all keep on going.  We feel their loss so deeply, but it’s comforting to remember all of our times together and to see their likeness in our next generation.  The example my grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles have given us is like cement set deep within my soul. I love seeing my sister and my cousins (and even second cousins) living out our family legacy: Belief in God, Love of family, Togetherness, Traditions and Laughing A LOT.

Not everyone has what we have–it is something really special and I am so grateful to be a part of it.