The strictist definition of family is a group of people affiliated by consanguinity. That is, they are related by blood.

Last month I went back to my hometown in North Carolina for a family reunion.  This was an extended family reunion, the 55th year in a row that it has been held and the first time I’ve attended in more than forty-five years. My great-grandfather was named Gentry Dees. Folks called him Gent, or “The” Gent. He had two brothers named Franklin and Malachi, and the hundred or so attendees at this year’s event were the descendents of those three brothers. Except for my particular branch, I have not seen most of these people since I was a child. There were a great many that I have never met. It was sort of strange walking into a room full of 2nd and 3rd cousins. When I initially arrived, I only knew 4 or 5 people in the room, yet the strong family genes made a lot of folks look familiar.

The next couple of hours were a lot of fun. There were relatives from 5 states at the gathering. I could sit down at a table full of strangers and within a matter of seconds establish my bonifides and relationship to them. I sat down with strangers but ended up conversing with family. We had a pot luck lunch and it was cool seeing how “old family” recipes were interpreted by other branches of the family. There was a bulletin board of old family photos, some dating back nearly a hundred years. I could see part of myself, the consanguinious affiliation, in those old photographs.

There was an unexpected kind of warmth that emanated from the room that day. It’s not often that one receives instant love and acceptance from a room full of strangers. I came away feeling somehow more grounded with a greater sense of who I am and where I came from. There is an old expression that goes something like “family are the people who will take you in when no one else will” or words to that effect. It certainly seems to be the case with my family anyway.

My 2nd cousin Eddie Dees, the mayor of Hope Mills, NC