Family Reunions

    I have attended many family reunions at various stages of life. These have sometimes made me feel inadequate, snobby, homesick, and grateful, amongst other things. As a child I went to play with cousins who seemed more worldly and daring than I. We ran around the perimeter of the grown ups pretending we were characters in our favorite movies. 

 

    In the teens I went self-conscious, hoping I would appear smart and talented. I wanted attention and sometimes became aware that others were looking for that, too. It's hard to find someone who gives attention to so many seekers.

  With little children I went to family reunions hoping to find justification by showing my family that I was coping well with decisions in my life that turned out to be difficult. I longed for someone to come along and watch my kids long enough to allow me to connect to someone. To really know how their life was going. To speak heart to heart before the party ended and we traveled to our different corners of the world.

                 Now I go and notice the real heroes of every family get together, the hosts. 

   The woman who's mind keeps spinning trying to remember all the small details. Does she have enough paper plates? Should she cut onions to go with the brats? Will the late arrivals get some teriyaki chicken? The one who cleans the pool, cleans up the lawn chairs, and buys the outside toys so that others have an outlet for their energy. 

   In all those years before, I was caught up with myself and how I appeared to my family. Now, I am just grateful to have a family. 

   There is never enough time to connect, heart to heart, but the collective heart of our ancestors and our posterity is renewed every time we make the sometimes tortuous efforts to come together every couple of years. I pray everyone felt loved by someone. I pray that they vowed to call more often. I pray that we will all be there next time.