Meet the Family

Well, today was the day. After enjoying some rather pathetic coffee and an english muffin, we drove off to meet everyone. I tried not to be nervous, because even if these people don't like me, I have no intention of leaving the family. We arrived in the beautiful city of Bethesda. So many of the homes are built out of red brick. The streets are lined with large trees, and the backyards seem to go on forever. A very eclectic mix of the old and the new. Later in the day we headed into the more affluent neighbourhoods. Houses were being sold by none other than Sotheby's. We drove through the shopping district as I was glued to the window. Jimmy Choo, Saks Fifth Avenue, Tiffany & Co, Gucci...

OK, so back to reality. Bethesda is a fabulous place. We pulled into the driveway of a 50's style red brick house. The yard was very open with a few trees for afternoon shade. We walked around the back of the house, like family. Because we are family. We were greeted by three of the aunties and an uncle. The inside of the home was like a museum from yesteryear. The original stove top, and oven in place. The stovetop had push button operation (very advanced for its day, I'm sure). This was definitely the home where only women live, dustables in every corner. Grandma and two of her daughters reside here. The daughters take amazing care of grandma and of all the household chores.
Once we got the initial pleasantries over with, I began to relax. Diane had decided that she was going to get everyones autograph, and she set busily to that task. It was a great opportunity for her to connect with her family. She even managed to get grandma to sign the paper. It reads Mama. Not bad for 99 years old!
The house is quiet, people sat or stood and talked in groups of 2 or 3. Nobody talked over each other. Nobody got really loud trying to make a point. It was quite the opposite to a family gathering on my side.

Aunt Cherry made a nice lunch for us, and grandma was able to join us. Although she required a little assistance from her kids to eat, she still enjoyed a good meal. Even though speech is difficult for her, she continually pushed food at all of us, insisting that we eat more. I could see what a spitfire she would have been in days gone by.
It was an interesting time watching how everyone was around her. Dad just sat quietly (as he often does) and looked at her. The aunties were busy keeping the everything in order. The one thing that stuck me was her youngest son, Ricky. Every time he would be near her, he would touch her. His hand on her shoulder, a brush on her arm and every so often he would stroke her hair softly, as if to say 'I love you mama'.