Sunday Celebration

It was a remarkable, two day birthday celebration. Friday my son Andrew and his family came to visit and with his help, I was able to complete some nagging, unfinished chores left unfinished. It helps that he’s a master plumber and two of the tasks involved plumbing. His wife Renee and daughters Celine and Moriah brought two delicious meals and a cake. They even managed to find some birthday candles somewhere in my house.

After church and Sunday school, they returned with my daughter Amanda Yoder, her husband Eric and my granddaughter Hannah. My daughter Anna Prinkey and her husband James joined and my entire family gathered under my roof. Hamburgers and hot dogs smoked over the mesquite and charcoal fire while the ladies made salads, condiments, and other foodstuffs to fill the table and stomachs. To top it all off, we ate leftover cake and ice cream.

With the recent return from Amarillo, Texas there was a lot of catching up to do. Laughter and stories filled the dining room and the living room. I felt truly blessed to have them gathered together. The time passed quickly and soon the house was quiet. It was only the cat Willow and me.

In the quiet, I wrote Monday’s blog and thought about the ups and downs of my life. I have decided that my children and grandchildren are definitely the ups. This was a memorable birthday.

Most Sunday mornings, several men line up along the one wall of the church, between preaching and Sunday school. It has become a ritual and we say they are holding up that wall. One of the other church members jokingly said, “We ought to paint silhouettes on that wall, so when they pass away, they’ll still be here holding up the wall.” I took a photo of them against the wall.

Well, with my warped sense of humor opened fully the large cardboard box that protected the vanity for my new bathroom. Leaning it against my workbench in the basement, I sketched the outline of the five gentlemen. I bought some black craft paint and filled in the outline to create their silhouettes. It is now in my basement awaiting its transport to the church Wednesday evening if I am still alive after my visit to the Chestnut Ridge Historical Society and the confrontation with the leaders.