While I didn’t take a trip to Ireland, I did take a trip to Suffolk Virginia for the Moore Family Reunion! That’s my Mama’s side of the family. Now we aren’t one of those families that has a scheduled reunion every year. Truthfully, it’s gotten to where we typically see each other at funerals. Does that sound familiar? Actually this reunion took shape at a funeral. We’ve got to do better!
My Mama’s family is from Snow Hill, a small town outside of Greenville, NC. She was one of eight children, all born in the same farmhouse. From those eight children came 30 children, and from those 30 came Lord knows how many more. Let’s just say, we have one big ole Southern family!!
Me with my Aunt Irene and Aunt Ramona
My oldest brother Ray and my nephew Garrett
My brother Ray and my Uncle Clarence picking and grinning.
My sweet boy Daniel with his Great Aunts and distant cousins.
My cousin Pam, her husband Bob and her mother, my sweet Aunt Irene
Uncle Clarence, Aunt Ramona, Uncle Charles, Aunt Irene
To say it was good to see everyone is an understatement. Like I said above, my Mama was one of 8 children, 6 girls and 2 boys. We have 2 girls and 2 boys still on this Earth. From left to right in the picture above is my Uncle Clarence, Aunt Ramona, Uncle Charles and Aunt Irene. These are my closest connections to my sweet Mama. I’m always shocked how much my Mama and her sisters favor. It’s almost like getting to visit with Mama for just a little while. She would have had so much fun seeing everybody, and hearing all the old stories. Lord how I love those stories!!
These people, my family, are the salt of the Earth. These people, my family, have seen so many amazing things in their lifetime. They were raised in a farmhouse with no running water or electricity. They wore gunny sack dresses and carried their lunches to school in buckets. They were chased by chickens on the way to the outhouse. They didn’t have extras, but they always had enough. They had parents that loved them and worked hard for everything they had. They had each other. They had love. In this world of excess, we could sure learn a few lessons from this generation. More does not mean happy. Less does not mean lacking. They took what they had and built a full life. A life that didn’t include computers, or iPhones. A life of playing outside and working in the fields. A life of thick black molasses and homemade biscuits. A simple life. A genuine life. A life to be proud of. A life worth living.
After the passing of my sweet Aunt Geraldine (Mama’s youngest sister) I wrote this poem. It’s a poem about family, their stories and who will be left to tell them to our children. I tucked it away and just remembered it when I returned from the reunion. Please, cherish the family you have left on this Earth, and listen to the stories they have left to tell.
How will they know
From whence they came?
Who will tell the place, the name?
Nothing will ever be the same
As the days from whence we came.
Who is left to tell the tales
Of Halls and Moores when all else fails
To let our minds and spirits sail
To days of Heaven and Hell.
What was it like when you were small?
The times you spent, please do recall
Now build it up and watch it fall
Those tales forever tall.
When will they hear the voices Old
Filled with warmth as if they hold
The fire of truth within their soul
It must, it must be told!
Where did we come from, the blood we share
It runs on through us, so we must care
To hold each other , oh we must dare
For life is so unfair.
My boys, my boys please don’t forget
From whence you came, don’t ever let
The time that’s past, rob you yet
Of pasts that you have met.
From whence we came, I am so proud
To hear it once, to tell it loud
With strong backs straight and humbled heads bowed
I tell it, tell it proud.
I am Hall and I am Moore
This is me and nothing more
From now and all the days before
I live it, live it more!