Ady's Day

My great-grandfather, W. J. Cato, once commented that he thought his six children would never speak to each other once he and Mama Cato passed away. Well, Pop, we all know you are smiling down on your family today. I could go into great detail about my dad's family, but here's the short version. There are 18 years separating the oldest, Fred, from my grandfather, Billy. Four boys, and two girls: Fred, Lou, Bernice, Jack, Sissy, and Billy. Lou and Fred married sisters, Eunice and Ady. There are ten grandkids, and 18 great grandkids, of which I am one, and more than 25 great great grandkids.

Today we honored Ady, who passed away in February. There we were, more than 50 years after my Pop Cato's death, gathered as a family. Forty of us reunited at the old homestead in Greenbriar, AR. We all live very different lives, and are scattered from San Diego to London, but we were united as a family with deep roots today. My Popaw stood as the patriarch, reminiscing about old times and speaking of his older brothers and sisters as only a "little brother" can.

I wish I had known Pop and Mama Cato. From what I've heard, they were great people. My grandfather is the last of his siblings still living. I pray he is able to see more of the legacy he is leaving for the next generations. I pray my children get to know him and what a wonderful man he is. At the very least I hope they get to taste his wonderful homemade icecream.