Dear daughters

Photo Credit: Ann Emery

Family gatherings are notorious for being generally unfortunate: dull, obnoxious, explosive, uncomfortable. Pick your choice adjective.

Not so with the Daughters of Cecil.

We daughters of daughters of daughters of daughters--bound together by pie crusts and painting, laughter and laments--we are stories. Passed down from generation to generation. Sometimes miscommunicated or misremembered. Sometimes shared through a burst of laughter or an outpouring of tears.

But how does one write these daughters' stories with mere words. I find I am at a loss. These fragile stories of deep affection and self loathing, of giving birth and losing loved ones, of baking and creativity, of hysterical toddlers and (hysterical?) husbands, of addiction and health, of family and friends, of joy and despair.

What a terrifying honesty. What a beautiful collection.

__________

A small amount of background information:

My great-grandmother Cecil had three daughters: Lois (my gram), Meryl, and Carolynn. These sisters all had daughters, and those daughters all had daughters and so on. Together we are the Daughters of Cecil and we have annual (or sometimes biannual) reunions. I spent this last weekend at Cama Beach with 18 amazing and strong and adorably cooky women and children. It was lovely. I am so blessed by my family.

See my sister's post about the weekend here: The Daughters of Cecil