Family

Yesterday, I took the day off to attend a memorial service.

It's been almost 10 years since I lost my grandparents, and since then, my dad's uncle Maurice sort of filled that void. Since our families lived only one city away, we saw him at every major event, and even minor ones.

I think that says a lot about my family and their ability and desire to make family a priority. Uncles, cousins, nieces, great aunts, it doesn't matter, they have a fondness in our lives. And as long as we're related, we make time to see each other! That is something I admire in my family, and have grown to cherish and am showing signs of inheriting myself. I don't think I have too many friends who see their other sides of the family at least monthly.

For me, I wouldn't have it any other way. The excitement of going to Uncle Mike and Aunt Michele's house has never worn as my youth disappears. First we had cooler, older cousins who could drive and introduced us to popular music. Then there was the huge backyard and pool. Then the cousins got married and brought their spouses. And now, babies are back in the picture.

Either way, I think the Moyal-Young families share a very special bond. That's why yesterday was kind of difficult. I've grown up a lot since the last family memorial service I attended. I've also learned a great deal more about our history, heritage and culture.

It's so upsetting to think that almost an entire generation is lost, as the younger ones cultivate and grow roots sprouting newer generations. My grandparents all came from Francophone countries and moved over here before my dad's birth. My great-uncle, too, traced those same steps and came to the U.S. from Morocco before anyone else did.

As a youngster, I never really heard the stories. Pictures aren't too numerous. All that I know about my grandparents and great aunts and uncles is from what I've heard their children tell. I seldom heard stories coated in a thick, French accent, and they were delightful.

I wish that people from the third generation could have more time with the "first."

And it still hasn't hit me yet. Except for the beautiful slide show, with its touching music. That was the first time I really cried about it. Other than that, it's still a feeling of shock, like he'll show up at the next family gathering. Or we'll start talking about how crappy the A's are once baseball season starts.

Or he'll ask me when I'm getting married next time...

Like I said, still a little in disbelief. It's all I've been thinking about over the past three days. Moral of the story, learn everything you can from the generations who have come before you. If I could go back, I would try to every second I had available. And I know, that if I ever have children, I'm never going to grow tired of telling them family stories and making family a priority in their lives as well.

R.I.P. Great Uncle Maurice, Mémée and Pépé. Can't wait to have the chance to speak French with you some day in the future. (Now that my language skills have increased 1,000% in the last 10 years)