It just so happens this day falls on the last day of a family reunion for my  husband’s family.  These cousins know how to have a good time, and keep the family close.  Not easy to do considering there are cells over the country.  Not everyone attends, but those that can still travel, usually do.  We aren’t as young as we used to be.

The group my age do their best to carry on the family tradition of togetherness they learned from their parents.  I wish I had been part of the family when they were alive.  I missed knowing some hard-working, intelligent, caring people.

Friday night we gather at a restaurant for dinner.  There were 21 this year, including two ladies we claim as family that really aren’t.  Most of the discussion is updating each other on personal news.  The conversation was extra special because we heard stories from the next generation that are now all over 21, about their memories of being little.  Some tellers wanted their parents take of what they remembered about certain happenings.  After dinner there is a pub crawl, starting at the local Elks Club.  Cash registers like it when we visit.

Saturday there is a picnic at Stony Brook State Park.  There is food, conversation, laughs, memories, and the obligatory trail hike.  I didn’t get the exercise gene, so I skip that.  This year we figured out this reunion has been happening for over fifty years.  In the evening we all go out for dinner again.  By this time the conversation has slowed a bit and we all look a little bedraggled, especially when it’s hot.

Sunday morning we all say good-by in the hotel lobby and have already started planning for next year.  This morning a three year old was walking through the hallway, with big eyes, saying, “There’s more cousins!”

One comment made a few years ago by a lady cousins sticks with me.  It was honest, and oh so true.  “We are together just long enough to not get under each other’s skin.”

Ain’t family grand?