Friday, August 2, 2013

Gathering


Whenever seventeen people from one family gather together in one house, there are moments of pure hilarity and moments of pure insanity. There are fish hooks through fingers and card games. There are meals prepared and old roles slipped on with resentment and shed with  confidence. There is sunscreen and too much alcohol. There are frayed marriages and those tempered by humor, bound. This year, the long table was laid out with old Christmas ornaments, and sisters were instructed to pick what you want to keep. Pink glittered balls with green felt tops stood in for -- what? My own pile was small by intent as I have no interest in holding on, in piling up, in stand-ins. It's no accident that I should be reading Madame Bovary, the story of disappointment. If there were a copy of Cheever lying about, it might be smoking, at the very least, smoldering. The children, year after year, ride in circles on the wide sand. Their legs grow longer, their eyes look sideways at the spectacle. They, too, are gathering and will sow, years later, perhaps squander, hold on, let go.

12 comments:

  1. Elizabeth. You crack me up and move me at the same time. The only other suggestion I have for your reading material is some George Booth cartoons.

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  2. This was the perfect thing for me to read today, right now, on the first day of rain we have had in over a month. Old Sara Bareilles songs are on Pandora, the dog is sleeping on my feet, the kids are reading in their rooms and I am reveling in the wet, the grey. Thank you.

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  3. There is a lot packed in this little post. I love everything said and unsaid.

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  4. Took me back to childhood family gatherings at Nags Head. Lots of life lessons learned. Beautifully written, beautifully remembered.

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  5. Terrific. I feel like I could read this aloud at the start of almost any family holiday, just to prepare myself and everyone else!

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  6. i love this. i don't hold on to much either. are you surprised? xo

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  7. Seventeen people in one house sounds...well. Almost as strange as Christmas ornaments in August.
    Bless, baby.

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  8. I read your blog every day, and am just blown away. I've told my friends who are poets that everything they think about blogs is shown to be untrue by this one. Every post is poetry. I hope you have millions of readers, truly. You deserve that.

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    1. Thank you, JAB, for reading and for your kind words.

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  9. Families are a complex and marvelous thing.

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  10. My God, I love this.
    You are brilliant and brilliance. I wish I could keep you in my back pocket all day :)

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  11. This is exactly the work I am absorbed in this week, the gathering and squandering, the holding on and letting go. The children as yet have no idea, but you, I can tell you do.

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