Family Trees

If you already read the post that preceded this one, you must know that I am a firm believer in the fact that we choose our families. We are not tied to the fact that we are only family to those we have a direct bloodline connection to. This weekend was a prime example of that.

For starters, I got up early on Saturday morning in order to make the hour and a half trec to El Reno, OK to see my dear friend Kristen and her family. I got lost. For those of you who know me, you know this is no rare occurance. Now, in my defense, I wasn't really lost. I knew exactly where I was the whole time. I just didn't know how to get where I was going. haha! I missed my exit and had to turn around (twice) to get back on the dadgum Kilpatrick Turnpike. BETTER SIGNS, PEOPLE. WE NEED BETTER SIGNS. About halfway down the turnpike I started to panic that I had yet missed a valuable exit. I called my bosses husband, as he has family in El Reno and makes this trip regularly. He set me on my path and I was instantly at ease. See, even when I'm not lost, I feel lost...and then I panic. ;) I arrived in El Reno, safe, sound and on time. I was greeted at the door with a warm, welcoming smile, and instantly was hit by a flood of memories. I have spent more time in this home than I can even explain. The 'home' has changed postal addresses a few times through the years, but it is the exact same home. Pictures adorn every possible surface, both vertical and horizontal. Everywhere you look there is a sign that this family has faith and love of family. I was never an exception. I was welcomed many a time into this home, at their table and into their hearts. I had grown, since I was three, to call Kristen's grandparents Nanny and Papa and her mother as Momma Kim. That hasn't changed. Despite their passing, Nanny and Papa are still very much in that home. I sat at my place at the dinner table and was greeted by a warm, loving feeling. As I looked down, Kim explained to me that the warn spots on the edge of the table directly in front of my seat, were the spots warn down by repeated visits from Papa. He sat at that very spot every time I had ever graced their table. Now, may I remind you, this family ate almost every meal together at that table and before the first bite was taken, Papa would bow his head. Those warn spots were the very places his arms would rest as his hands were folded in prayer. I was always included in his prayer as he asked God to watch over me as I traveled home. He would thank God for putting me into their lives and for making me a friend to Kristen. He never failed to appreciate and love me. I love my Grandparents more than I can explain and I know that they love me. My love for Papa never took that away, only made me realize that family is not only a birthright. He considered me as much of a grandchild as any of his own grandkids and I will never forget that. I miss him and Nanny dearly as they were a large part of my life growing up. I sat at that table Sunday, and as we bowed our heads, Kim began to pray. Her words and her voice reminded me of none other than Papa. I cried. And as I cried, Kristens dear husband Brent looked at me and goes, "Woah. Are you ok?" I laughed as Kristen laid her head on my shoulder and said, "Lizzi don't cry." I told Brent that in all the 21 years I had known this family, I was NEVER able to sit through one of their prayers and maintain my composure. I cried every single, solitary time. I have never cried in church. But I always cried at the Carmichael/Cunningham table.

Not only did I get to hang out with this crew, I also got to play with the newest member of the family. Little Reagan Jean (named after Nanny). She is the sweest, most adorable baby I think I have ever known. I haven't been around her more than maybe five times in her entire year of existance, yet she never whimpered or pulled away when I picked her up. In fact, she often held out her arms for me to hold her. She gave kisses and giggled, squealed and cooed. She is by far the most precious thing I have ever seen. On of these days I'm going to take some photos of her for the gallery, but until then, I will post some quick snapshots on here for you. Isn't she adorable?! I love that baby like no other and am blessed to be her Pseudo Aunt Liz.

As I got in my car to drive home and waved goodbye to everyone, I began to cry. Surprised? I didn't think so. I couldn't help but feel like I was leaving something behind and I wasn't ready to go home yet. It's harder to explain than one would guess. I began thinking of all the things in my life that I had questioned. A great song came on the radio and it made me laugh a little to myself as it wasn't even a station I would normally listen to. I can't for the life of me remember the song, but it was almost as if God were listening to my thoughts and was responding with an, "Mmmhmm...yes, yes...go on." The storm clouds lifted, giving way to one of the most brilliant sunsets I had ever seen. I was alone in my car and suddenly felt very whole. I began to pray, which sadly I had not done in quite some time. I asked God to grant me patience and allow me to put my fears and worries into his hands. I know that things I yearn for will come to me in their due time as He has a plan for each of us. I have always known that, always believed that. But for some reason, the whole thing hit home yesterday like never before. It was all so clear to me, when I think it was my own selfish wants that had clouded it for so long. The sunset, the song...everything just seemed like a sign that everything was going to be okay and I just needed to quit worrying. I made it home and sat and told Caitlin all about my weekend. It was nice to share all of that with someone. I probably didn't put it quite as elloquintly as I have on here (not saying this is elloquint), as I was telling her the table story through big, fat, crocodile tears. (Reagan got those a time or two as well!) I feel a weight has been lifted.

I am now going to go study for my economics exam. (Weight returns.) haha! May you all find a love as deep as this one.

God bless,
Liz