afterglow – wine and family dinner

My drive home from Idaho gifted me with 6.5 hours of listening time. Having just been treated to face-to-face connections with three podcasting Wilson women, I decided to relisten to a What Have You episode. But driving at 75 mph doesn’t lend itself to reading titles on my phone. So I used the close-your-eyes-and-pick method, though I didn’t close my eyes. More like watch-the-road-scroll-and-tap. And I landed on:

Sabbath 101 | What Have You 97

It’s a delightful conversation between Rachel and her mother, Nancy (because Bekah was away). I hope, I hope, I hope you’ll find 51 minutes to listen. But if you can’t listen, you might still read my stories without their context.

Since I rely on photos to keep your interest, here’s one of Moses, youngest of Rachel’s seven children. The podcast often uses a photo that captures the main topic of the episode, in this case Sabbath.

Toward the beginning of their conversation, Nancy said “…we had just come to the conclusion that we should be drinking wine.” Yikes! Did she really say what I think she said? Every single teetotaling feather I wear ruffled! But I quickly regrouped and heard her out. They, too, were teetotalers until they decided this was how they should celebrate before the Lord. So they instituted wine in Sabbath Dinner but continue to be conservative wine drinkers.

I’m not an easy convert, and my personal resistance to alcohol remains strong. I easily get addicted to—you name it—and constantly check myself. Take Coke for example. After a ten-year hiatus from it, I suddenly took it up again only to face the reality of addiction…again! My cold-turkey halt added all fizzy drinks for my life’s duration that would require a terminal diagnosis to break. Needless to say, I don’t buy or even sip alcoholic beverages—the risk for me is too great.

Why, you wonder, am I writing all this? Please don’t think I’m condemning the Wilsons or you for consuming alcohol. That’s none of my business.

It’s this, my friend, this.

Every Sunday morning at Christ Church the sacrament of communion is observed.

You jumped ahead, didn’t you? Well, in the moment I was considerably slower than you at realizing this church would serve wine in these little cups. More proof that age doesn’t necessarily improve naiveté. The shock of it and the long-lasting burn in my throat reassured my commitment to tea. Decaf, of course.

Rachel and Nancy quickly moved on from wine to other elements (did I do that on purpose?) of Sabbath Dinner. Many transported me back to those delightful days when all our local family members gathered at our home on Sunday for monthly Family Dinners. Everyone was invited to bring a 5-minute Show ‘n’ Tell. After dinner we’d pull our chairs into a circle and shared our illustrated stories, which ranged from a newly acquired gadget to a souvenir from travels to a creative endeavor to a photo of a rare bird spotted on a birding expedition. Yes we had a timer; no we didn’t enforce it.

Not one of us could ever forget the time Grandpa Ken Williams stood up, took off his belt, and let his pants drop to the floor to illustrate his intentional drop in weight! Thankfully he’d donned his swim shorts in preparation for his Show ‘n’ Tell.

There was the time Mauri roped Pete into removing some stitched from a healed wound. I can’t believe to this day that Pete complied and even with a smile!

The time I Skyped with Rachel in Philadelphia to show off her new baby, Oscar.

The arrival of a new book by none other than our own Erin Macy!

DK and Stacey lived in Washington but were visiting on Family Dinner day. Yes it’s a real cat; no it isn’t alive. Draw your own conclusion.

The family grew and grew some more and we eventually outgrew our space. The church let us use its social hall for a couple of years but eventually we laid it down. With or without wine, it was a good thing.

I’ll close with a recent video of Rachel illustrating what Sabbath Dinner looks like now. It’s short, less than three minutes. You might enjoy it.

This entry was posted in family matters, nostalgia. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s