The Gathering of the Clan...............

Sunday morning, bright and early, my oldest grand-daughter, Cheyenne, and I loaded the car............(turkey salad, two giant apple pies, and an armload of toys and accessories).........and headed for Linden, Indiana.

The occasion was the annual gathering of the descendants of Cecil Boze, my grandfather and the man after whom I was named.

I set a pretty high stock in family and this is an event I look forward to attending all year long. It has always been a regret that the circumstances of my upbringing kept me at a remove from my Aunts, Uncles and cousins. I always envied them the closeness and convenience to each other that they were able to enjoy.

Some years ago (nearly 20 I would reckon), I would meet my parents at my Aunt Jenny's place in Crawfordsville, Indiana,(which was about half-way from where they had moved after retiring and my home) around the first of july, and transfer the kids to them.

My two would join their cousins Shannon and Joe at Grandma and Grandpa's wooded hideaway for about 3 weeks, after which my former spouse and I would join them for my three or four week vacation.

The second year I did this, I got the idea to spread the word that we would be there for the afternoon, so anyone who wanted to visit with us could come over to say hi.
In about the third year, we started bringing pot-luck.

I'm not sure when it got formalized into a "get-together" (note the careful avoidance of the "R" word...........calling anything a reunion seems guaranteed to condemn it to non-attendance).........but get formalized it did, and for a while it was the celebration of a burgeoning clan.

Years have meandered by, some have passed on, kids have grown up and had kids, health problems plague some of the rest, and other obligations sometimes preclude attendance, but we hang in there. Some years bring a better crowd than others, but I am still grateful for the opportunity to catch up, however briefly with people I cherish, and for the chance to introduce my grandchildren to a bit of their own personal history.

I went with every good intention of taking dozens of pics. I snapped a few, ate my way through the potluck buffet, and then got so absorbed in talking that I forgot all about my camera................doh!!!
So, I have this pitiful rookerful of pictures. I missed so many people that I would liked to have included here, but there is always next year.

This is my Dad's side of the family. There were four handsome boys, Clare, Fern, Donald, and (my dad) George, and four beautiful girls, Virginia (Jenny), Ann, Betty, and Marilyn Jo (Joey). Of the boys, my Dad is the only survivor. My Dad has been unable to attend these get-togethers for some years because of his health.

This is my Aunt Jenny...........




This is my grand-daughter Cheyenne with a member of yet another generation, whose name I didn't catch (or who she belonged to......god, I'm terrible).




This is my Aunt Jenny and my Aunt Betty.........




These are my cousins Cindy and Byron Clare.............I'm sure it must be this way in most every family, that if you have the same name as anyone older than you, you have to go by both your names forever. Thus, I am and have been and always will be Cecil Owen. Likewise, Garnal Malden and Garnal Leon. On my Mom's side of the family, there is a Paul Dewey and a Mary Lou...............I suppose it could be worse, my brother gets to be Georgie for the rest of his life..........




This is my Aunt Ann and my Aunt Marilyn...........Aunt Marilyn was the baby of the family, and is only 12 years older than I am. Her middle name is Jo, so, of course, everyone called her Joey............Which became Aunt Joey to all the assorted cousins and semi-cousins.




This is my Uncle Leo.............Aunt Betty's husband and one of the two people to whom I owe the experience of learning how to "buck hay". When you get even a small taste early in your life, of what hard work really is, it seems to cut down on the whining about small stuff significantly later on. I recommend it.




This is my cousin Mary Ann............who is enough like me in temperament and humor, that I always harbored a secret wish that she had been eligible to be a girlfriend. Guess it's not a secret anymore..........but then blogging tends to do that at times. At any rate, if she sees this, I hope she is complimented rather than shocked or offended.




This is my cousin Mike and my Uncle Byron (the other "hay bucking educator"). I think I was about 12 years old before I realized that his name was Uncle Byron and not Uncle Barn......(hey, regional accents aside, he was a farmer and had a barn, so it made sense to a kid).




So, I am dismayed that I came back with no more pics than that, and a little embarrassed at my total inability to hang on to a name not repeated to me more than a few thousand times. I missed so many people that I wanted so much to introduce here.........and the hasty snaps I did manage to get don't do much justice.
So I apologize to everyone.

It's a good family, solid and honest and hard working and accomplished and loyal. The stories are as old as America.

Nine of the surviving men are Freemasons. Six are Past-Masters and one is currently sitting in the Oriental Chair. This represents three generations of Masons.

We had to clear the hall we rented by 4:00pm, so it seemed the day didn't last nearly long enough. It seemed we had no sooner gotten there and Cheyenne and I had to hop back in the car for the 3 hour ride home.................she's a good traveler for a four year old, but she was on a world class sugar buzz and wound up like an eight day clock.

As for me...........it's karaoke time........

Thus endeth the entry..............