Today was one of the best Easters ever. Though it rained cats and dogs and bunny rabbits, family frivolity also reigned. Fred and Clara Allison host this annual event. They've done this for many more years than I've lived here and are kind enough to call me family since I am kinda-sorta. Our genealogy might not place me on their family tree, but their heart does.

For some reason, the rain didn't dampen spirits one bit. Perhaps the reason is that this family would have fun rejoicing the good fortune of each other even if a blizzard was howling through the house.

I noticed as I chatted with cousins and cousins-in-law-thrice-removed that the view through the windows to the outdoors revealed a tableaux of perfect spring greenery - that the very wet that cloistered us was also gifting us with colors all the more vibrant for rain's glossy coat.

Lamb is traditionally found on the Allison's Easter menu. Over the years, certain potluck additions have become de rigueur as well, to include Miss Rees' asparagus, Cousin Carroll's tossed salad with almonds and mandarin oranges, Cousin George's roasted potatoes, buttery soft rolls, and desserts of cheesecakes and coconut cake. Cousin Genevieve brought homemade candied pecans she'd harvested from her yard in Vandalia, GA. (Mind you, this makes her sound like Aunt Bea, when in fact, she looked like a runway model today.) Forgive me if I've missed someone here - the foods and culinary skills were amazing! (Bravo Rob!)

Shortly after arriving, I planted myself by the pecans and proceeded to apologize profusely for coming empty handed this year. As I stuffed my jowls with pecans, it was clearly apparent I'd brought my appetite... something I rarely leave at home.

I can't help but think that the structure of the Allison's Easter menu has been sustained because a certain rhythm exists. Seriously, think about it. What if Cousin George had brought mashed potatoes instead of roasted potatoes? The mashed potatoes would've been delish, but the 364 days of anticipation would have generated much conversation to include sentimental reflection on roasted potatoes. I think a segment of the annual gathering includes the anticipated rituals of foods. Or maybe I'm simply having a food-centric moment here. Erase, erase, erase.

I think I can safely speak for the others that this was a special year. It's been rumored that this was the last time we'll gather at the Allisons. I'm not feeling up to giving you the explanations because it's sorta sad, and maybe, if we're lucky, the rumors won't be true - and also because a baton is being passed at a time when I think we all want to resist inevitable change. I don't know about the others - but as much as I was aware of a chapter closing, I was in full-blown denial. I was way too cavilier with my goodbyes - as though time was marching on as usual... while we all know it's not. But maybe that's the best way to close a chapter... knowing that the baton will indeed pass and more chapters of family gatherings will continue. One can only hope.

Importantly, the day was resplendent with laughter and love and thanksgiving and the best lamb I've ever tasted.

Below are the meager three photos I caught. My bad. Damn fine pecans distracted me. Nonetheless, I caught some beauties!


Cousin Genevieve and Aunt Jean Carol


Little Genevieve and her daughter, Caitlin


Three generations of beautiful women from Cousin Billy's branch