One big happy family

I'm probably going to be writing about our family reunion now and then for months to come.

There were so many angles, so much tradition and richness and history that came together in a Glenmoore yard with the heat ebbing from the day, that I haven't really even begun to process it.

And, I can hear one of my multiple historian cousins say to me, who is to say that your point of view is accurate?

So let me say it before anybody else -- my perpective might not be that of the other 55 or so participants.

But boy, it was a bonnie affair.

I had convened the clan for reasons that relate directly to my own place on the family tree. With the exception of my sister, my family of origin is dead. I have always had warm feelings for all of my cousins, even the ones who were family memories from childhood. But as time went by, I have more and more felt the lack of an extended family.

My mother, and before that my grandmother were previous clan gatherers -- my great aunt Jennie the original Jackson family historiographer.

Knowing that all of these wonderful folks were out there -- and that there was no Hatfield-McCoy blood feud keeping us in enemy camps -- it seemed crystal clear that we needed a place and a time, and the reason would be evident.

Send out a casual email, and they would arrive, after multiple twists and turns, in pastoral Glenmoore. The invitation seemed easy -- and I figured the details would eventually spool themselves out.

And so, indeed, they did arrive, from Oregon and Atlanta, Washington, D.C. and Truro, Massachusetts, Maine, and Birmingham, Alabama.

We were gifted with a wonderful group of octogenarians, and one amazing nonogenarian. Seeing her hold court at breakfast this morning was a reminder of the blessing of good genes.

And then there were the children, teenagers, and young adults -- the "Facebook" friends who communicate via texting, messaging, and gaming. They eventually drifted off to discover each other.

We know we were Jacksons. And that we were proud to claim our heritage. But we hadn't had the chance to do it together. And, tout suite, we have a network, ties that bind -- a family for the twenty-first century.

And I am so grateful. Amazed. And awed.

Thankful, also, that the dead skunk, and vulture didn't reveal themselves on the back lawn until this morning.