Help Deb haul a few food dishes

out to my truck,

pretty much the same old things

we are always requested to bring. 

Crawl into my truck

with eager anticipation.

Drive to Mama's house,

park in a driveway full of cars

and milling with people coming

in and out of Mama's house. 

Say hello to those outside,

shake hands with

nephews and hug nieces,

accept their help to carry stuff inside.

Walk up to Mama's house,

drink in the fragrance of family,

food and love drifting lazily out of her door.

Open the door to Mama's house,

step inside to a peal of delight from Mama. 

Walk to her and wrap her into my arms,

hug her close and squeeze her. 

Hug Aunt Re, Aunt Nita and Aunt JoAnn. 

Imagine Grandma sitting there

and miss her terribly. 

Shake Uncle Hol's hand. 

Hug my sisters. 

Hug nieces and shake hands

with nephews,

cousins and family friends.

Pile the food we brought

onto the table along with

the phenomenal assortment

of foods and desserts

already stacked and covering the table. 

Laugh and visit, enjoy my family.

Ask Uncle Hol to offer up a blessing.

Attack monumental mound

of food piled on table,

eat with enthusiasm

and enjoy the glow of my family. 

Make sure to tell my Mama

how good everything is.

Try to look around and

lock away these memories,

realizing the Aunts and Uncles,

even Mama aren't as young

as they used to be.

Silently wonder how many

more days like these we will

be so blessed as to all be together.

Eat until I am sick and then

eat some more until

I am REALLY uncomfortable. 

Go outside for fresh air,

visit and rough house with cousins,

friends and nephews and nieces. 

Throw some horseshoes.

Drift back inside for

another piece of pecan pie. 

Tell mama I love her

and pat her head

or stroke her hand.

Amble around the room

and tell everyone goodbye. 

Shake Uncle Hol's hand,

hug the Aunts. 

Tell the sisters goodbye. 

Hug my Mama,

tell her I love her.

Waddle my fat ass out to the truck. 

Crawl up into truck

with a heavy groan of discomfort. 

Drive home.

Help Deb haul in

dishes from truck. 

Kiss her and thank her for

letting me spend the day

with my family. 

Plop onto the couch,

unfasten my pants

and sigh contentedly. 

Call Mama later

and thank her for the meal. 

Tell her I love her.

Go to bed,

slip under the covers

and lie beside my darling wife. 

Say a prayer

of thanks to my maker,

thank him for my life,

my family

and the love

I am surrounded with. 

Thank him most of all

for my lifelong date

with an angel,

the one lying beside me

and snoring softly.

Miss my Dad. 

Drift off to

contented sleep

and dream

sweet dreams. 

Sleep. 

Love.

©2006 J.L. Day