Wisdom and Washing Dishes

My father once told me a story of how when he was a little boy he stood watching his mother wash dishes. A question came to his mind, he was about four or five years old at the time. He wanted to know, why, if they ate their food only from the face of the plate, was it necessary to wash the back. His mother went and opened the cupboard where the plates were stored and explained how as the plates are stacked, back resting upon face, a dirty back would make for a dirty face. My dad told me that at that moment he became sure that his mother was a very smart person.

I never got to meet my grandmother on my fathers side, she had died before I was born, but I had the opportunity to spend a little time with her kin. This past Saturday was the Tschirhart Reunion. Held this year at the lovely little cottage of my Uncle Earl and his family. The cottage sits high atop a cliff overlooking lake Erie, just outside of Port Dover Ontario. It was great to see everyone, they are all such fantastic people. I got to meet my first cousins granddaughter Katie. I guess that makes her my third cousin or something, but when it comes to being a sweet little girl she is definitely first.

Our ages ranged, I think from just over three to perhaps just shy of ninety years old, four generations stretched out on a beautiful summer afternoon,sharing food and drink, games and stories, laughter, smiles and hugs. Its so wonderful to be among a group of people linked by blood and marriage, by a common story, shared memories.

I wonder how many times little bits of wisdom have been past down this family chain through time. Wisdom like the the story of plates and their washing. Stories that tell us that as a child you can find an answer to a simple questions using the tools reflection and logic, that as an adult the same tools help us find the answers to questions more complex.