I’ve always bragged that my grandma had four brothers who became Nazarene ministers. At Grandma’s funeral yesterday, I discovered that I’ve been wrong. Actually, she had six brothers who became Nazarene ministers. Six out of six.

The last living brother is Doyle, now age 86 and still preaching. He spoke for probably ten minutes at the funeral, just sharing memories of Grandma. I learned a lot. Plus, I had never met Doyle. What a guy! Articulate, very funny, full of energy. He says he’s got his passport to heaven all ready, but he doesn’t plan to board the bus yet. He’s got a lot of living to do.

I always knew Grandma loved reading her Bible. We were told that she has read through the entire Bible 29 times. At least.

I realized that I’ve truly got an enviable heritage. So do all of my cousins who were there. It was sure great seeing them again. Jamie was out from Arizona; her husband, Drake, is in Baghdad training Iraqi troops. He’s been in the military for about 20 years now. Wendy was out from Colorado, with her parents. What a delightful person she is! Brad, a doctor in Oklahoma, just a little bit younger than me, drove out with his family.

My cousin Mike, my best-ever friend, was there. In fact, he lives across the street from where Grandpa and Grandma lived. I always enjoy seeing Mike. We got into way too much mischief to recount here. His son Logan, a marine sniper, served a couple tours in Iraq and experienced lots of stuff he doesn’t care to talk about. He’s out of the military now, and married. Nice kid. Randy’s son-in-law, a West Point grad, just learned that he is being deployed to Iraq for 16 months.

We all lingered in the cemetery for quite a while. Some of us mused, “When will we all get together again?” Grandpa and Grandma were a glue of sorts. We grew up gathering regularly at Grandpa and Grandma’s farmstead. Now they are both gone, and the house is being rented out. The world moves on, and so do we.

We cherish our relationships, but the years pass quickly and we’ve all got our own worlds. But yesterday, at least, we had a few hours to touch base. It was a home-going for Grandma, but a homecoming for her kids and grandkids, and great-grandkids, and great-great grandkids. I loved every minute of it.