Up, Down and Around Our Town

The tradition of it all. I must admit that the ritual that has become such a part of the fabric of life in the Midwest was somehow new to me, yet I have come to embrace it and reflect on its true meaning. The occasion? The Family Reunion. Not that there were not such activities in my youth in the East, but with the plethora of large, multi-generational families in the heartland, it just took on a new meaning. And it is all good.

Just remember that the likes of Willard Scott never seemed to recognize a 100 year old birthday for anyone that wasn't from the heartland - it must be the soil. What is really means is somewhat of a base for family interaction that is truly passed from generation to generation.

Way back in the early 80's, my brother-in-law decided that it would be nice to invite members of his family (myself included) to his house in St. Charles for nothing more than a day with each other. Not that we didn't see these folks other times, but usually not at one setting. Funerals and weddings aside, this was a chance to just have a day, hear the stories and embrace the joy of the 4th of July.

As part of that ritual, it was usually the case that we would gather for a group picture. Such was my lot in life then; I have since passed that duty to the electronic generation. But, one of the other things was to isolate by generation, getting the "older" folks followed by the child-rearing generation and ultimately to the children. Those finished pictures were precious and yet there is one striking change today. That simple fact is that "we" are now the older generation. Or almost.

It is amazing that the numbers have remained somewhat steady. The comings and goings of those that we love and are loved by. Gone are the likes of my in-laws, Clyde and Gladys, as well as Kyle and Ruth, Carl and Clifton and Harold. But, we still rejoice (as we did this year) with the smiling faces of John and Jane, the presence of Dean and Georgine and the smiling and bright face of Aunt Betty. I share those names just to give reality to the principle that no matter how good times are shared that they are savored and this year was certainly no exception.

Of course, the weather folks cooperated with cooler temperatures, sprinkled with a good dose of buffalo gnats. But, those obstacles were minimal.

Tradition goes deep. There were baby carriages and wheelchairs in the same place. There were stories of retirements and the first-time presence of my newest hero. (I doubt that she'll remember her presence). But, there was also a wonderful crop of the newer generation that we all hope will continue in what we have started.

My lovely bride has a real sense of history and of her own family. I am fortunate that they accepted me almost 40 years ago to be a part of them all; they are truly special people and reinforce the entire reason why these occasions are held in the first place. Things do change from year to year and we were two years removed from the last one due to the wedding that we sponsored last year. Mind you, they were all at the wedding, but that priority made things different. But not this year.

Folks started arriving; picnic baskets were unloaded, the peanut salad (a staple for many years) was chilled and ready. The pulled pork and fried chicken was in abundance and the joy of having the meal wrapped around the folks invited made for a special day. As it should. For the record, the chicken never had a chance, the deviled eggs are history very quickly and the potato salad, chips and desserts were gobbled up with great voracity. As it should.

There were scooter races for the youngsters, the assault on my roof and gutters from the hissing of balloons that were launched and the sounds of the Cardinals and Cubs in the background. Norman Rockwell should have had that canvas to paint; then again, in many ways, he did.

Part of the difficulty is when folks start to say goodbye. There is always a gnawing thought that some will not return next year; we certainly hope not as we are selfish to the end and really want them all to reappear. From 90+ year old Uncle Dean to 7 week old Sasha, the weekend encompassed what those affairs are all about. The best part is that they are not unique to just our clan; hearing those stories from other families reinforces the mere fact of hosting them and that Midwest tradition is a good one.

It was all there; late breakfasts, big dinners and enough pizza to feed.....many....and it was gone as well. Pepsi, Iced Tea and Bud Light were present and the stories just got better. Until that picture was taken. It then dawned on me that I would now be in the back row - not on the porch, but in the back row. As I gazed behind me, it was a simple thought of gratitude for those who had come before and were making the way for us today. But, perhaps the best part was looking at the front three rows. Wonderful young people who will take up the yoke and perhaps be nice to us in another generation. My sense is that such will occur and be done with grace and style. Because that is the way it is supposed to be.

E-mails and slide shows will replace letters, but that instant view of what had occurred just puts us in a contemporary world. Not that we understand it all, but those in the first 3 rows certainly do. There was golf, there was looking at old albums and there was the sense of those not there again being with us. We were transported, even if just for a few minutes, back to the early 80's. The clothing was different and there certainly was more hair, but the faces and the commitments were the same.

A wonderful tradition. Wouldn't be the same without it and we're thankful for all who made the effort to not only participate, but add new chapters to the story. As my grandson stated so eloquently as the first picture was taken, "let's do it again." And we will.

Hope you clan gets together soon and that the memories and the building blocks of traditional families are similar. I am sure that they are. So, till then and with next week looming, I remain.....