All my joy in this day
My cat was purring near my pillow and birds were singing in the trees as my eyes opened on a day I’d been happily anticipating. My first thought was, “It’s November 8 — the day my Sedgwick family meets at Newcastle’s VFW Building for our annual Thanksgiving celebration.”
The anticipation of hugs and conversations, fellowship and feasting with many dear relatives from ranches north and south of Newcastle and from towns including Casper and Osage energized me. I hit the floor and grabbed a cup of coffee to kick-start the day.
Now that I’m 80, they say, “You don’t need to bring any food, just come and enjoy.” I tease back, “I’m both smart and lazy. A pack of sturdy foam plates and a tasty macaroni salad from the grocery store will fulfill my aged obligation. You might not even make me help clean up and wash or dry the silverware when we’ve finished.”
I did just that, and it worked — although my conscience bothered me as I watched dear family members older than me deftly cleaning up. I got teary-eyed seeing the cousin (even a little taller than my 6-foot-4 daddy had been), sleeves rolled up, washing dishes like Daddy always did at family celebrations. Real men don’t think there’s anything “sissy” about lending a hand in the kitchen.
The bounty of our feast was magnificent. Sturdy tables groaned under multiple meat dishes, bountiful salads, veggie casseroles, feathery rolls, delicious pies and
other desserts. Everything anyone’s palate could have desired was braced by lemonade, iced tea and coffee, waiting to be poured. I needed to let my belt out a notch by the time I’d sampled most everything — and had seconds on some.
My heart nearly burst with love and joy studying each dear face. Some were wrinkled and topped with silver hair like mine. I saw at least three generations, even some small children. I swiped at a tear, missing our parents and those before them, loving everyone in this room, along with a deep generational love reaching to our forebears who established the Bluebell Inn in Kettlewell, Yorkshire, England, in 1402. How fortunate for me that they found their way to Weston County, Wyoming — the place I love most on this earth.
Family from Minnekhata, South Dakota, and Casper, Wyoming, traveled the farthest to attend the reunion, and several live on ranches around Weston County. My earliest memories of such gatherings were at the original Sedgwick Ranch on the Cheyenne River, where cousin Clara and Fred and their daughter Lonnie and husband Ty still live. A happy babble of voices floated above the tables, and I remembered my daddy’s big laugh — always heard when we gathered. Cousin Lennie’s laugh pealed frequently as we feasted.
Time flew on the joy we were sharing — never enough for all we’d like to say. The sun traveled westward, and families still ranching knew evening chores awaited. Dishes were soon washed, tables and floors tidied, and leftovers packed up. I was delighted with the big Styrofoam box sent home with me, knowing leftovers taste even better the second time around.
Sweet goodbye hugs were shared before my friend and housemate, Gail, and I headed for the next party on our day’s agenda — a birthday bash for Rosie Pzinski, one of our favorite people, held at Weston County Senior Services. The magnitude of love and respect that dear lady has earned in our area during her more than nine decades was evident by the overflowing parking lots surrounding the building. A happy babble of voices and laughter assailed our ears as the front door slid open to welcome us. Festive décor proclaimed the occasion throughout the big open room, and we felt truly privileged to join the multitude on hand to honor this wonderful friend.
A hardworking rancher, avid horsewoman and lover of horses, breeder of mules, successful elk hunter, former Newcastle Rodeo Queen, and one of the best goodwill ambassadors Newcastle has ever had, Rosie is beloved by everyone fortunate enough to have made her acquaintance. Her easy smile is ever-present, and if she ever complains about anything, it’s that it’s becoming hard for her to get around to do the things she’s always done – and still wants to do – to help or please others.
While listing Rosie’s many talents, I must inform you she’s a formidable opponent in the game of cribbage. Her sweet heart feels badly if she beats you — she’d rather see you win than herself — but she’s an excellent player who’s truly hard to beat.
Observing this joyful crowd of fellow Wyomingites, friends and neighbors, I sent a thankful prayer to God for the joy I’d felt all day. Glancing at the glorious red, white and blue of our American flag overlooking the big room, I whispered, “Protect her, dear Lord, and all she stands for. Protect us, Father, as the world around us rocks and rolls with troubles and turbulence. And thank you especially, Father, for letting us live here — in Newcastle, Weston County, wonderful Wyoming. Amen.”