There is an art to throwing a dinner party. My parents have perfected it. My mother is a matriarch for our family. When she calls in the brothers, they all show up. There are no wives that are similar to speak of in our family. Mostly the wives all understand that she is the matriarch and that when she says, I am having a party, they stand next to the brother. However, my mother has four brothers and they all have two wives and generally have children by both wives. It is amazing really. The second wives are the ones that attend at Mama's functions, however there is an occassion or two when the firsts show up too and that makes for many, many people. There are going to be thirty people at my parents house tonight. Thirty people. It is not easy preparing a house, a meal, gifts, something to keep the little children out of trouble and a smile on your face the whole time. I only know of one other woman who understands the strain, she has eight children. I can't imagine her family holiday events. My guess is that it is similar to what my parents have done except everyday of the year. There is another woman in my community, now that I think of it, who has thirteen children. My understanding is that dinner at her house is like a machine. Discipline. No questions asked. Do your job, get going. I can't imagine. I am sure she is a matriarch too. It is an art. Keeping a family together. I don't know if I will ever have that challenge in my life. I am sure I will be up to the task if asked. Being a part of such a good family, I am well prepared. I was reading about Mary last night. She is a matriarch. She was so important her prescence made John the Baptist kick inside Elizabeth. Pretty cool. I wonder if my Mom ever made other babies kick. I think babies know when a good Mama is near. They kick in the womb. The stop crying when they get picked up. I guess it is not so much party throwing is the art, rather family tying is the art. Motherhood. My mother has different names if you talk to different people. To me and my brother she is mom. To her brothers she is Sissy. To her mother she is Lloyd. To my father she is Sue-sue. To her professionals comrades she is Rachel. She is a strong woman to be able to do what she is doing tonight. All of the silver is in the right spot. The Christmas tree is up. The candles are lit. The baby Jesus is on one mantle and the Dickens homes are on the other. The meal is cooked. The family is on their way. I feel like we should light luminaries to guide the way. All that is left is the people. They will be here soon. There is the first phone call for the one that is on their way. Soon.


Soon.


Soon.

The babies are coming. The family is coming. Christmas is here.