There’s something magical about family gatherings—the kind of magic that comes from too many people crammed into one house, sharing stories, laughter, and sometimes a little chaos. Growing up, I was lucky enough to experience this firsthand. One summer, my family moved into my grandmother’s house in Greenville, SC, sharing three bedrooms with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. That tiny house somehow held five adults and seven kids. To this day, I have no idea where everyone slept, but I remember the yard games, the woods, the creek, and the unforgettable meals we shared around that small table. Decades later, when I visit that house (which my cousin still owns), I’m left in awe of how we managed. But more than that, I’m grateful for the memories we created.
My wife, Deneen, has similar stories growing up in the tiny town of North Wilkesboro, NC. Her father was one of 14 children, and I’ll never forget visiting her grandparent’s house on Christmas Day. Everyone—and I mean everyone—showed up. The house was so packed that finding a seat was nearly impossible, but the love and joy were palpable. On her mother’s side, family reunions were a cherished tradition every two years. People would travel from across the country to reconnect. Sadly, those reunions stopped during COVID, and I’m not optimistic they’ll resume anytime soon.
I miss those times. Deneen and I started our family later in life, so our daughter, Lola, is too young to remember the family reunions. My parents passed before Lola was born, but thankfully, Deneen’s parents live with us, giving Lola the chance to build a strong bond with her grandparents. Still, I can’t help but feel a pang of loss for the traditions that once defined our lives.
This longing to preserve family connections inspired my short story Auntie vs. Auntie. In the story, Big Mama falls ill before the holidays and tasks her feuding daughters, Tilly and Vanessa, with taking over. Tilly, a progressive health enthusiast from California, and Vanessa, a traditionalist with Southern roots, clash spectacularly as they prepare separate Thanksgiving menus. What follows is a comedic buffet battle featuring plant-based turkey, raisins in potato salad, and a family torn between loyalty and taste buds. The chaos of the story mirrors the reality of how families struggle to maintain traditions in a modern, often disconnected world.
And isn’t that the question many of us face today? How do we stay connected as a family in an era where social media creates the illusion of closeness, but real-life interactions seem to fade? How do we preserve the legacy of Big Mama, Granny, or any beloved matriarch while adapting to new lifestyles?
Here are a few suggestions that have helped my family, and perhaps they’ll inspire yours:
One of the simplest yet most meaningful ways to stay connected is to eat dinner together as a family. I know life is busy—trust me, I get it. But even a few meals a week at the table, with phones set aside, can foster conversations and build bonds. Whether it’s sharing a favorite dish from Grandmama’s recipe book or trying something new, the act of gathering around food is timeless.
If some old traditions have fallen by the wayside, don’t be afraid to create new ones. For us, attending church together has become a grounding ritual—not every Sunday, but when we do go, it helps us feel connected to something bigger than ourselves. It’s a way of weaving the spiritual and familial into our lives in a way that feels manageable and meaningful.
Technology doesn’t have to be a barrier to connection; it can be a bridge. Host virtual family reunions if traveling isn’t possible. Create a shared family photo album online or start a group chat where everyone can share updates (and, yes, even the occasional meme). Used wisely, technology can help families stay close, even when they’re far apart.
If there’s one thing my Aunties taught me in Auntie vs. Auntie, it’s that laughter is the glue that holds families together. Whether it’s Uncle Junior’s reaction to “tofurkey” or a debate over raisins in potato salad, the moments of humor in the story remind us that even conflict can be a source of connection. The same applies to real life—find the joy in the absurdity, and you’ll find the heart of your family.
This is the most important lesson I’ve learned: Be present. Show up for the holidays, the milestones, and even the small, ordinary moments. That’s why when Lola was born, we were living in New Jersey and I was working in Manhattan. It was hard being so far away from our southern families so I decided to start looking for jobs in Atlanta. As much as I loved the energy of New York, I wanted Lola to get to know her cousins – even though most of them are somewhat older. Time is precious, and the best way to honor a family legacy is to invest in it while you still can.
Closing Thoughts
I know I’m not alone in missing the days of gathering at Grandmama’s or Granny’s house, sharing meals and stories that felt like the foundation of the world. Social media may give us a glimpse into each other’s lives, but it can’t replace the warmth of sitting elbow to elbow at a crowded table, laughing until tears run down our faces. Even the crazy relatives—maybe especially them—are part of what makes family worth cherishing.
As we head into a new year, I encourage you to think about your own family’s legacy. What traditions can you revive or reinvent? How can you make time to connect with loved ones, even the ones who test your patience? And, if you need a laugh, check out my story Auntie vs. Auntie. It’s a reminder that even when family dynamics get messy, love and laughter will always bring us back together.
Visit gregkerns.tv to read Auntie vs. Auntie. You won’t want to miss the infamous Buffet Battle—just be prepared to laugh (and maybe rethink raisins in potato salad).