Family Roots

The words below were written by my sister, Robin Peeler, back on March 20, 2017. She re-shared the post today on her Facebook page. I asked her if I could share it here and she readily agreed. She told me I could add to it if I wanted, but it pretty much says it all. The only thing I will add here is to say this – none of us take for granted the good fortune we had to be born into such a loving family. We all know that not everyone has the same experience. I’m heartened to say that we as a family do not keep that experience only to ourselves. While we were learning to be loved and to love each other, we were also learning to love others. Not a single one of us would ever claim that the Peelers are perfect. Trust me, each of us could tell you some stories. And we do, when we gather for our annual family campout at the Old Home Place. But, we have each worked hard to make where-ever we call home and whoever we call neighbors a little better than how we found it or them.

Robin Peeler

In this picture we only see two generations of Peeler blood walking the hallowed grounds of the Old Home place. But if I close my eyes and think back over all the years, just in my short life, I can picture at least five generations in my lifetime. Many have gone home, some are just coming into the world, and some of us still go for the beauty, serenity and the overwhelming feeling of safety, love and peace that surround you as soon as you step foot on the ground. We all grew up there, ate more Sunday dinners and jars of pickles than you can count. There we were loved and cherished by everyone and we knew it, because we felt it. There may not have been much there in the way of material things, but family, that was always there no matter what.

We learned how to skip rocks, jump off the rope swing at the right time to hit the deep hole and not the sharp rock in the creek, learned how to use a handmade slingshot to shoot rocks at each other, protected each other from the gulley monster, spent many a cold night with 4 or 5 cousins jammed in one bed in the back room underneath a pile of quilts that seemed to reach the ceiling to keep us warm. And it never failed, just as we had all gotten toasty warm somebody had to get up and go to the out house and we had to start all over again.

We woke up to bacon, and sausage and eggs, and shotgun biscuits made by the loving hands of MawMaw Peeler. I swear that woman had to get up at 3 am every day to accomplish what she did. She never let you leave without a full belly, a kiss on the cheek, a tight squeeze, and for me “I love you Shorty”. Oh how I loved her too.

So many memories at this place that time will never erase, because I know of 3 itty-bitty ones with Peeler blood in them that will come to love this place and its stories as much as we all do. I wish I had time to talk about all the memories, but it’s a lifetime’s worth so for now I’ll say good night Peeler clan. Loving you all from Virginia where ever you lay your head tonight. I’m thankful for each and every one you, past, present and future. Peeler out.

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