When the Children Came Home | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Publisher's note: Please join me in welcoming Author Michele Rhem, who presents us with her poignant memoirs of the Rabbit Patch, where her diaries weave tales of a simpler, expressive life lost to many, but gathered together in her most familiar environs - the Rabbit Patch.

    My last entry was about the beauty of "ordinary" - simplistic greatness, to me. This time, the weekend holds some fanfare-at least for me. All of the children are coming home! We are gathering at the home of my parents and so Ryan will meet his great grandparents, at long last. I could hardly sleep last night, in light of the occasion.

    I came in the back door, of the old farmhouse, on Friday with a spring in my step, though I was lugging groceries. We are gathering on Saturday, this time, for a mid day meal. This meant, I best get started cooking on Friday night. Within minutes, I had the biggest pot I own, on the stove, filled to the brim with chicken, celery stalks and all sorts of seasonings. Tomorrow, I would make the dumplings. Another pot was full of string beans. I would fry the cornbread at Mama and Daddys' for cornbread has a short span, to sit and still be good. For dessert, I was making strawberry brownies, for though, it may seem out of season, this family loves anything with strawberries. Delores is making apple pie cookies, so very fitting for early autumn.

    I will tell you, that I nearly danced, in the kitchen, while the pots simmered.

    Mornings are so cool now, that I drug out my winter robe, on Saturday . . .and I put the fan away. I have not been able to use it, for most of the week. It seems, that summer is at long last, over. Now, even the trees declare it. The sycamores are starting to drop their huge leaves. Sycamore leaves go from green to brown, without a bit of fanfare. The dogwoods are starting to turn their familiar crimson-just barely, but enough that their bright red berries are seen easily. The grass has slowed down, thankfully, too.

    The sun was shining as brightly, as it has ever dared to do, on Saturday. This only increased my good spirits.

    Just before noon, Kyle and I were pulling in the driveway at Mama and Daddys'. Of course, Christian had to work, which put a damper on things. The car was loaded down with steaming pots and a large pan of the strawberry brownies. I was frying cornbread within minutes.

    One by one, all arrived. We made quite a ceremony of Mama and Daddy, meeting little Ryan. It was a tender moment. . .and the beauty of it, was not lost for any of us.

    A noisy, happy meal followed that hallowed moment. Delores, especially loves babies, and she opted to hold Ryan, She did so til there was not a dumpling left in the pot! Being the cook, I was horror stricken, but Delores ate cornbread with the broth and did not complain.

    We talked about the Christmas gathering til I have no clue what was really decided upon. We drew names for gifts-that I am sure of. Lyla played with her uncles and her cousin Dana read to her. Brynn, being shy, stuck close to her Mama, but she did venture outside, with her uncle Tres. We looked at old photographs and it was decided that the "Warren bloodline" was showing up in the grandchildren.

    When the kitchen was clean, and everyone had packed up . . and little Brynn was laying her head on her daddys' shoulder, the party concluded. Oh, how dreadful, to watch them all leave. Some things never change.