The family: Where love, gratitude, and grace meet

The photo is not particularly well-composed, and it falls far short of professional photography standards.

We’re all looking straight into the yellow rays of the setting May sun, with half of us keeping our sunglasses on and the other half squinting, somewhat quizzically, into that dazzling light.

Shadows darken the ground in front of us while an ugly pole, with streams of tacky, exposed light bulbs flowing from it, dominates the sky behind us.

For all its technical flaws, however, the photo is one I will forever cherish for it captures, if only for one moment in the great sweep of time, a happy, healthy, and celebratory family.

Daughter Caroline was cause for the immediate merrymaking.

The day before, Friday, May 8, she walked across the stage at Carmichael Auditorium, grasped a tiny, mini-diploma, and became a proud graduate of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill School of Law.

She was easily the oldest member of her graduating class at age 43, having decided at the beginning of her fourth decade that course correction for the ship of her life was still possible and that dreams deferred need not be denied.

My tears flowed freely as she crossed that stage, my thoughts returning to my own father, her beloved Paw-Paw, and how very proud he would have been had he been seated next to me as she became a law school graduate.

Of course, the Old Man would have been proud of the whole dang bunch, but no more proud than I, the aging patriarch of the family circus.

Caroline will be passing the bar in July. A new job, a new home, and a new marriage to her fiancé Matt will follow as she begins the next chapter of life in Asheville. And the great thing about Asheville? It’s only an hour away.

Daughter Jennifer, her husband, Air Force Maj. Jordan Ellis, and their daughter, Princess Margot, were on hand also.

Jordan is stationed at Joint Base Andrews-Naval Air Facility just outside Washington, D.C., in Maryland, and come mid-summer, just in time for the worst of the Texas heat, they will be moving to Lackland Air Base in San Antonio.

Any time we get to spend with Margot, our only granddaughter, is precious time indeed, but precious too is the time she gets to share with her three first cousins — three romping, stomping, rowdy boys.

The boys are protective of the 3-year-old blonde princess and even turn down the horseplay and the hijinks — at least a little bit — when she is with them.

Two of those young gangsters — 9-year-old Noland and 4-year-old Clay — are the offspring of daughter Prairie and son-in-law Shane. The parents are both officers with the Chapel Hill Police Department, Shane a captain and Prairie a lieutenant.

Their work hours are long and often stressful, but they are devoted to their two boys, both of whom are curly-haired, incredibly handsome, and are near certain to grow up to be Major League Baseball stars.

(At Saturday morning’s game, Clay took a mighty swing, popped the ball straight up into the air where it seemed to hover for a moment before plunging back down and landing squarely in the middle of his batting helmet. Unfazed, he lined a single up the middle on the next pitch.)

Our oldest grandson is 10-year-old Diego, son of daughter Jada and son-in-law Kenny. He is strikingly handsome, has hair that any model would kill for, is a superb athlete, and also possesses a creative and artistic streak.

And yes, as Garrison Keillor might say, all four grandchildren are most definitely well above average.

Jada and Kenny both work for WCHL, the radio station in Chapel Hill that I listened to as an undergraduate more than 50 years ago. Both bring talent, energy, ideas, and enthusiasm to their work, and both are devoted also to their son.

As my bride Dinah and I sat together on that warm, early May evening, watching our children in animated conversation and watching our grandchildren play, we counted our blessings.

Our children and their partners are all healthy.

All are employed.

All have health insurance.

Healthy too are those four grandbabies.

All are loved. All are cherished. All are well-fed and well cared for.

For all of them, the future is indeed bright.

And so, when I look at that badly lit, awkwardly framed photograph, I do not see the crooked pole or the harsh shadows or the squinting faces caught in the glare of a setting sun.

I see something far more important and infinitely more rare — a family gathered together in peace and affection, standing for one fleeting moment in that sweet and fragile place where love, health, hope, hard work, and gratitude all meet.

Lord knows, life can change in the blink of an eye and no blessing should ever be taken for granted.

But on that golden May evening, with children laughing and grandchildren running and the people we love gathered close around us, it felt very much like grace.