Memories, Extended Family, and Reunions—What Really Matters

We’re smack in the middle of summer. The kids have been asking about a trip home, which is funny, because it hasn’t really been their home since they were in diapers. But we all still call it “home,” because that’s where family is.

And summer is the ideal time for family reunions. We won’t be attending any this year, I’m afraid. Between work schedules, football camp, and tennis practices, we just ran out of time to make the trip.

Which is sad, because we always said family comes first. And they still do, but this year, they’re going to have to come first from afar.

I keep in regular and frequent contact with these folks — even if they are a motley crew.

I talk to my parents every day, and my grandmother fairly often. I talk to my sister all the time, and I hear from my brother more via computer or text (he, like most men, is not the phone-type). My husband talks to his family regularly, too. And the kids talk to their cousins all the time. Well, they text and SnapChat all the time.

So, while I’d love to see these people, they aren’t the ones I’m missing right now. At least, no more than usual.

I’m thinking about the picnics we had yearly where the whole clan got together. The great-aunt and great-uncles and their kids and grandkids (and then great-grandkids). We didn’t fit in anyone’s backyard, so we’d rent a pavilion at a park, and everyone would haul up homemade dishes to share. I don’t know if you have family reunions, or if you do what you serve, but this was no burger-and-hotdog affair. We had pasta, sausage and peppers, hot pepperoni sandwiches, pizza roll, chicken, antipasto platters, arrancini (rice patties), fried vegetables, fruit, and more desserts than you could sell at a bakery. And these weren’t small casserole dishes of food, either. These were huge roasters or platters. And there were always leftovers.

Kids dug into coolers for drinks and got into ice wars while the adults sipped on someone’s homemade wine. People played bocce, Frisbee, horseshoes, and lawn darts. Yes, lawn darts. And no one got impaled. Well, not seriously, anyway. Later (I’d say after we ate, but we ate all day), we’d break into teams for a softball game—if the field was empty—or tag football. The games usually ended when “tag” turned into “tackle” and one or more uncles realized they weren’t as young as they used to be.

Nana, Grandpap, his brothers and sisters–a long, long time ago

There was Rat Pack music all day long, and the adults would sing and tell stories. Sometimes they even danced. And by the time we loaded food and family into the car at dusk, we had somehow managed to catch up with every single person there, toasted the ones who were gone, and made plans for the following year (if not sooner with some of them). Cheeks were sore from laughing (and if you were little, from being pinched), eyes stung from holding back tears, and bodies were bone-weary from the long yet wonderful day.

My grandfather is gone now. Has been since 1986. His brothers are all gone, too. All that’s left of his family is two sisters. On my grandmother’s side, she’s the only one left. That generation is dwindling. Cousins of my parents’ generation have already begun passing away. Every time I miss a summer reunion, I wonder who I missed my last chance to visit with.

I’ll always treasure those family reunion memories from when I was a child. Time marches on and things change. People come in and out of our lives. There is a whole new generation at the reunions now, and there are people like me who often miss because they are so far away. The menu is the same, but different people are preparing the food now. The games are the same (minus the lawn darts). But we still play the music that my grandmother loves. We’ve all grown to love it, too.

Summer is a time for family fun. It’s a shame to not make time for it.

For Writers:

Family traditions are a huge part of what makes a person who they are. Even the absence of tradition or of family can say a lot about a person. See if you can’t incorporate some traditional aspects into your WIP to help develop your characters.

For Everyone:

We aren’t going home this year, but we can still have our own picnic here and tell family stories. Maybe I’ll dig out some old family photos and we’ll place a group call to my grandmother to listen to her tell us some tales from back in the day. Are you going to any reunions this year? What are your traditions? Share them with us here.

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