Over the holiday weekend, together with my family, I attended a family reunion for my husband’s side of the family. Altogether there were about 65 people there representing four distinctive families from his maternal grandparents. Since the last reunion nine years ago, a total of 13 people have been added to the family either through marriage, birth, or adoption. There have been no deaths, thankfully, although one is battling an extremely rare and aggressive cancer (please say a prayer for Mark) and one is in remission after battling another form of aggressive cancer (please say a prayer for Suzanne).
The reunion activities included water sports, bonfire, eating, and talking. Lots of talking! Many stories to tell and be reminded of. Not all of the stories in this family have been happy ones--what family has only happy stories?--but there was a joy among this group that transcended the stories that were unhappy and the health that is in jeopardy. There was joy in being together, of being connected, of seeing the family grow in number, and of seeing that the faith that was passed from parents to children 75 to 80 years ago in the Black Hills of South Dakota is still being passed from parents to children and is still the lifeblood of this diverse group spread out from coast to coast.
And since it was the Fourth of July, of course there were s’mores and fireworks. :)