Always Room for One More

“The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another’s desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together."
--Erma Bombeck

When Erma wrote this quip on family, she was in the midst of living her life, as we all are with our families. Last week was incredible as again our family celebrates  our annual “Christmas in July”. We usually all congregate at my sister Donna’s house outside of Spokane, Washington, as she and her husband have a beautiful new home overlooking the mountains and rolling hills where my brother-in-law has been a forester for 30 years.

It seems every year we have a family addition of children, dogs, cats, or something, as there is always room for one more. Last year was our precious niece, Baby Georgia. She was born on my birthday, June 18, which makes her the youngest member of our family. My dad is the oldest at 88 years. Amongst our family members we had two teachers, two attorneys, a writer, a chemist, a theater costumer, a minister, a motivational speaker, a forester and my parents with 16 children, grandchildren and great grandchildren (counting the add-ons). All of us – yes, I said all of us - were staying in the same house for the week. Did I mention two large dogs, and four cats? My husband thinks it is entertainment just watching the family dynamics as five children under 10 squabble and run through the house screaming while my octogenarian parents do a pretty good job of keeping up with them.

My sister and her husband went to Mizzou back in the 1960s but moved west for his work so the rest of us Missourians find it easier to travel to Washington than for them to pack up all the kids and come our way. As with most families this large, we stock up daily on new food as “Morry the Chef” has rules to stay out of his kitchen while he is cooking.

With only side trips to the park, the pool or church, most of the time is spent just getting to catch up on each other's lives. The TV is turned off (except to see the Cardinals beat the Cubs) as we play our own games. From Charades to Scrabble to Advanced Trivia, we all throw in our own expertise of knowledge; it’s fun to see who is the most competitive, who poops out early and who is the life of the party. It changes from night to night.

As with most families, and as it was with Erma Bombeck who is no longer with us, we do our best to focus on the humorous, the  important, the empathetic and the spiritual. We have our degree of bickering, making amends, and apologizing for hurt feelings, especially among the children, and those who act like children. But the older we get, the more we realize that we may not all be together like this again. And when someone’s child is being sassy, or someone brings up an unpleasant memory from years ago, we learn to let it go and simply live in the moment. Although we have cameras and videotapes capturing the good, the bad, and the ugly, our real memories are being captured in our hearts. I see my 86-yearold mother, Margaret, painting the fingernails of her little 6-year-old namesake. I become teary-eyed as my dad holds Baby Georgia cooing up at her great-grandfather. I laugh as I am able to still beat my three nephews at arm-wrestling, as I know that will definitely not last for long.

A most poignant moment we had was Church in the Park, followed by a carry-in dinner. Several homeless people strolled up to the congregation and joined in, though they probably would not step foot in the actual building. As I watched a few of the church members shun these people, it made me see the parallel with our own families. How often are we so busy celebrating family get-togethers, birthdays, and holidays, but we too tend to close the invitations to “family only.”

My baby niece Baby Georgia is a beautiful welcome addition to our family. But so is Rhianna, who told me at the church in the park, her daughter is in prison, but for her it is a “boot camp spiritual experience.” If we would truly learn to ‘make family,’ not just make friends, everywhere we go, we could celebrate Christmas in July every day of the year. We always return to St. Louis full of love, compassion, beautiful family memories, and often more new family members added to the fold. There is always room for one more.

Debra Peppers, a professional speaker for 25 years, was one of only five inducted into the National Teachers Hall of Fame upon her retirement from Lindbergh High School. A member of the National Speakers Association, she has traveled to all 50 states and 60 countries teaching others that if she can go from being a 250-pound high school dropout, to Teacher of the Year there is hope for every child and adult. For info, visit www.pepperseed.org