Then, along comes Sadie -- widowed with five of her own children (4 boys, 1 girl) -- and VOLUNTARILY takes on EIGHT more kids (5 boys, 3 girls) -- for a grand total of 9 boys and 4 girls. Now, I've seen the Albert Cass family farmhouse on Backus Road -- cousin Julie lives there now and...I can't imagine where all those people slept. (My father-in-law did say that some of the older kids were married and/or out of the house by that time, but...still...).

I thought about Grandma Cass taking on and loving all those children (the boys alone would've killed me, I'm sure). I thought about it for days. And, I wished I had thought about it before it was too late to actually talk to her about it. I can only imagine the stories she must've had to tell about life on the farm.

Women of that generation were so different that women today (myself included). They were tender-hearted, God-fearing homemakers and mothers who didn't care about the latest fashion or accessories...didn't strive to climb the corporate ladder or aim to smash glass ceilings. They were selfless and giving and their families were their whole lives. They spent their days working harder than any working mother I know today -- making jam, curing ham, canning veggies, bailing hay, mending clothes, caring for children and making gigantic "suppers" (lunch is called supper down on the farm) for farmhands -- all from scratch, of course, no...Hamburger Helper or Campbell's Meals-in-Minutes for them.

Family ties ran deep -- very deep. So deep that everyone knows everyone else's business. It's a tradition in the Cass family that -- in many ways -- still remains. They are a tight-knit bunch -- at least my husband's family is. They get together every Friday night (yes, EVERY Friday night) as his parent's house for dinner and a bonfire (oh...and lots of beer and my father-in-laws homemade brandy, too). They plan vacations together and outings together. Every holiday is spent together. They help each other with home projects -- which usually turn into an all-evening party. Our kids are all close with their cousins -- some of them act like siblings. Most of us live within a few miles of each other. You can't throw a stone in Harborcreek without hitting a Cass.

I have to admit that sometimes it's all just a little too much for me. I tend to be a bit of a loner and too much time with all the family makes me want to run for the hills (or the mall...which I frequently do).

But, I also know that it is the one thing that most people are desperately lacking in their lives -- the closeness of true family -- in all it's annoying, obtrusive, messy, beautiful glory.

Grandma Cass was 91 when she died. Normally, the viewing for a 90+ person is sparse...few family or friends remain. Not so with Grandma Cass -- family and friends and loved ones spilled out of the main room and had to sit in nearby rooms and have the service "piped in."

If that isn't a testimony to a life filled with love and all the things that matter most -- I'm not sure what is.

Unfortunately, the Cass family was dealt another big blow when Dan's great-uncle George Cass died last Thursday. George was the father of 10 children -- four of his daughters -- Patty, June, Linda and JoAnne -- were among my best friends and are the ones who introduced me to my husband (their nephew? cousin? oh...Lord...you try and figure out that family tree!) and made me a member of the great Cass clan.

They buried Uncle George today, but his dairy farm -- the only operational dairy farm in Harborcreek -- will continue on. George's son, Henry Cass, and son-in-law, Ron Gilkenson, will keep the milk flowing and the family farming tradition alive.

Family really is everything. And, the only thing that really matters.