Marcia, Family Ties

I have mentioned it several times, but Marcia's family was exceptionally special to me.

Hah. This is where I get...er, more than a bit maudlin.

As if I hadn't been already.

But I digress.

I met them well before I knew her, as I realized later.

Marcia's brother Greg was a grade school spitfire in my earliest AWANA group. That's a story and a half. It wasn't until later that I would recognize that it was the same Greg, mischievous spirit only vaguely diminished with age.

Still, when Marcia returned from Florida, somehow I found myself close to her family. Her folks, Mike and Carol, welcomed me with open arms. I never knew why--aside from the fact that they were good Christians—as well as exceptionally nice people.

But being in their house, their home, was an education for me. I hadn't ever been somewhere that people weren't always fighting all the time. When they had little disagreements that they called “arguments” and later apologized for, I had to smile.

I was accepted into their home—into their hearts—for everything. An evening around the television, complete with plentiful popcorn. They taped the final episode of M*A*S*H* for me while I was at college. Supper at the family table--and I have a story about a chili soup dinner that one day I'll absolutely have to confess to Mike. He was outnumbered.

And always, ever and always, was not only their home, but their hearts open to me.

And of course, there is Greg. My friend, and at times my best friend. I really cannot comment on some of the times that we shared, and experience has already shown that I remember some of the details far better than he. And a few of them I really have to duck my head and keep quiet about.

Well, at least in public, where someone might be looking.

But Greg, though older now, was still a ball of fire, and some of his hijinks I heard about rather than experienced with him. I remember when he was at college, and we started talking long distance. He had met a wonderful girl, and I got to meet Evonne, one night at his parent's house.

Great legs—and a night of "Hefty, hefty, hefty..."

You had to be there.

Greg is a good guy.

Am I a fool to admit to myself that I would have liked to make her family my own?

Or to recognize that, despite all this, family was merely one of the secondary attractions that Marcia held for me.

But that's yet another story.