Missing from the Picture

Every Thanksgiving the extended Smith family gathers for Thanksgiving in woods.  We’ve doing this since 1938, the year Grandpa Smith died.  Granny Smith said she didn’t want to have Thanksgiving at the house; there were too many memories.  So they went down by the Buckhorn Creek and had a picnic.

We no longer gather by the creek.  One year it was too wet, and we moved to higher ground, and we’ve been on higher ground every year since.  We used to have a fire, and the old-timers would cook swamp cabbage (hearts of palm, bacon, heavy cream – and it is ‘slap your mamma good’) and make coffee in an old coffee pot hung on a stick.  All the aunts would be there – Neta, Nell, Mildred, Iris, and Ouida.  Uncle Harry came some years. Uncle Dow always offered the blessing. 

Most years now it is too hot to make a fire.  But we still have the long table laden with food. When Uncle Dow died, offering the blessing past to his son, my cousin Tiny.  Then it passed to me.  I’ve been giving the blessing now for twenty-seven years. 

About fifteen years ago we added a new tradition – taking generation pictures.  For a long time, Aunt Ouida was the last of the Smith brothers and sisters, the only one in her generation picture.  When she passed, the first cousins became the oldest generation.  There were 21 first cousins – this is my generation.  Barney, the oldest cousin, was thirty-nine years older than me.  I’m the youngest of my generation.

For long time, there were ten or so first cousins in the picture.  Slowly they began to die off.  My cousin Gay (no snickers, please), passed this year, leaving only three of us.  Cousin Sue isn’t able to attend Thanksgiving.  This year, only Cousin Ross and I were there.  Ross was there physically, but mentally he is far away.  It’s kind of sad.

The second cousins are holding up pretty well.  Marcus is the oldest; my daughter Sarah is the youngest – a fifty-year gap.  The third cousins are spread from Glorida Jean to my youngest grandson, Truett.  But that generation is nowhere near done; two more are on the way.  The fourth generation is well underway but won’t be finished until my grandchildren have children!

I posted the generation pictures on Facebook.  A long-time friend of our family commented, “Lots of good people missing from the pictures.”  He’s right. 

The generation pictures are a reminder that no one lives forever.  One generation builds a life, then fades out.  The next generation builds their lives.  Somehow, we never plan to grow old; it just happens.

Solomon said, “Remember now your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days draw nigh.”  I’m not certain of all he meant, but I think he was trying to tell us when you are young, know and live God’s way.  Know God’s values.  Don’t wait till you’re old to embrace the ways of God.  The word “evil” can also mean “corrupt.”  Anyone past the age of sixty can tell you their body has become corrupted.  You get stiff if you sit in one place too long.  Joints you didn’t know you had hurt in the morning.  An afternoon nap is no longer a luxury but a necessity.

We all have a finite time on earth.  Don’t live in anxiety or panic.  But pay attention to God now, not tomorrow.  Find the joy in following Jesus.  Because one day, you will be missing from the picture.