December 15th

Okay, so here's the thing.


I call my mama every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings on the way to work.  Yea, yea, I shouldn't talk on the cell phone while driving....blah...blah...blah.  (However, I truly wish my children would not talk on the cell phone while driving.)


Anyway.


So today being Wednesday, we're talking, my mama and me.  And she asks me if I've gotten anything in the mail.  Well, I got my brother's Christmas card that I really, really loved (he has his Christmas print of the year put on cards every year and you are a lucky somebody to get one).


But no, she's not referring to the card.


So what's in the mail?


She's not going to tell me.  I have to wait and see.


But I should have it by now, says she, because my brother in Salt Lake City has gotten his already, so I should have mine (although, I have to say - it has taken stuff as long to get from here to South Carolina before as it has to get from here to Salt Lake City.  Go figure)


So I go on to work and wonder what's there.


I have to run errands after work and get home about 7:15ish.


No one has been to the post office (no need for me to stop by - I don't have a key).


I have to do some stuff around here.


Then I go to the post office.


And then I come back from the post office because when I get inside the post office, then and only then do I remember that I don't have a key.  So I have to drive back home and get the key.


Then I go back to the post office.  


And I get the mail out and there's a large envelope from my mama that cost her $5.15 to send.  So it must be good if it cost that much to send.  And I sit in my car and rip it open.


And I cry.  Right there in the parking lot of the post office.  I bust out crying.  Not real big crying, but still.


Because this is what I found.

It is the story, written by my mama's sister, of my grandparents, my mama and her brothers and sisters.


Why did I cry, you ask?  I have no idea.  But I did.


All of my life, I have known the big stuff - the main events of my mama's family.  I know what happened to 2 of her brothers.  I had heard about the time a pickpocket stole my granddaddy's cotton money.  But for years, and especially since we had my mama's 90th birthday party in her old school this past June, I've wanted the details.  And I wanted to write them down so I wouldn't forget.


And my aunt has done that, and so much more.  And she can't imagine how much I treasure it.

And I can't wait to read it all.  The hearts of the children do turn to the fathers (and mothers and aunts and uncles and grandparents).

(and, ah, please forgive the sticky notes covering up the name of the family.  It's just that I have to take steps in case the wrong kind of person stumbles across my blog and comes after everyone I love.  Hey, don't you watch the news?  Well, I don't.  But I see the headlines on the MSN homepage at work.  Therefore, I have to cover up the name, and look out for me and mine)