It has been said that there are two things that bring families together. Funerals and reunions. One involves the sad departing of a loved one. Sometimes this experience is expected; other times it is an unexpected tragedy or illness. The other is a gathering to celebrate lives reuniting.

This past weekend we had both.

Many months ago my daughters and their cousins hatched the idea of gathering together again in a central location. The last time our families had done so was at my mother’s funeral on a cold January day in 1999. After that day life happened. Colleges, careers, babies, and whatever it is that distracts us and fills our days.

But the grandchildren of Harold and Rochelle Algood decided enough time had passed without seeing each other, so collectively, they texted each other with ideas, schedules, and times to meet once again. It was decided all our families would reunite at my niece’s home in Memphis on Labor Day weekend this year.

Airbnbs rentals were reserved, menus planned, events scheduled, and games set up. When the weekend finally arrived, we packed our cars with luggage, coolers, lawn chairs and canopy tents. Relatives plugged directions into their phones from Alabama, Georgia, Kentucky, Maryland, Mississippi, Tennessee, and Texas. The journeys began. For some the travels were long – a two-day affair. For some it was fraught with breakdowns. But for others it was fairly easy. Still, we managed to get together on the Saturday before Labor Day.

Little known to many gathered there this past weekend, there was also a funeral. Upon arrival at our Airbnb three of my grandchildren discovered a floater in the horse-trough size aquarium located in the courtyard. My five year old grandson, Ryan, observed the goldfish lying on its side. His mom knew immediately that he was about to experience another new life event. Albeit a death event.

"But it can't be asleep. Its eyes are open."

Death can be a strange thing to explain to a five-year-old.

It was decided to hold a quick funeral, say a few words over the deceased, and flush him/she/it down the toilet so he could flow to the Mississippi river and join that great throng of heavenly fish that are sleeping the great sleep, deep in the bowels of that muddy river.

Moments later Ryan ran and jumped into the pool out back. Ah, so quickly we forget. Et tu, Brute?

The next day one family at a time arrived at my niece's home. The zip-line cable was tested and well used. Chilly pool water was shared with whomever dared to sit at the water's edge, frizbies sailed across the yard, games were played and cousins met cousins for the first time.

I did a lot of reflecting that day. Others probably did the same. I thought about what my parents would have thought had they seen their decendents gathered together. The oldest was seventy-two. The youngest was two. And another little Algood is expected in late November. Possibly a child of Thanksgiving. How appropriate.

I counted thirty-eight souls in our family picture. I quickly learned it was going to be no small feat getting that many people to willingly pose for a group shot. On the second day we scrubbed up,dressed up, and squeezed together to capture the historic event. Soon after one family had to travel home. A little later another family had to to leave. As the day wained others made their way back to their Airbnbs, planning their next step on their way home.

It was a good weekend. Historic for our little family. If we do this again in twenty years I'll only be eighty-seven. My brothers - ninety and ninety-two. I wonder how many decendents there will be at that time. In seventy two years, Harold and Rochelle became more than thirty-eight. I've never been very good at math, but I know twenty years from now there will be a whole lot of folks eligable to scarff down bar-b-que and potato salad.

As Tina and I left the Airbnb early Monday morning I glanced over at the fish tank. There were no other floaters. I took it as a sign. Life is good. This past weekend it was Algood.

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Rick Algood
September 3, 2019