It’s been three years since we gathered. There are always some missing. This time three. My sister, her daughter and one of my second brother’s sons. Still, nineteen made it! A record! The reunions are rare. The pandemic made it more so. The brief lull last fall was all it took for me to try to organize it. My family means everything to me. We are spread from California to Chili to Alabama to Tennessee to South Carolina to Arizona. Herding cats. But willing cats. My oldest brother chooses not to travel at all, so we traveled to him. His daughter hosted our get-togethers to avoid too many public outings.
I
can’t remember seeing so many beloved faces at one time. It was soul-filling happiness.
Ages ranged from 2 ¾ to 78 years. There was individual time, group time, hikes,
breakfasts, dinners, swimming, games, shopping, dancing, a birthday party, laughter and just a bit of drama.
For
as long as I am able, I will try to implement these events. I wouldn’t trade
the time for anything. I keep asking myself, “How did I get so lucky?” Then I
spit over both shoulders, as my friend Ellen taught me, to ward off any lurking
mischievous spirits that want to steal our joy.
All of these:
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