Yesterday was my family reunion.
There is a sadness on the day after an event. Perhaps it’s a sense of letdown after all the anticipation. Maybe it’s knowing that it won’t happen again for another year and everything might be different. Whatever causes it, I always get it.
Every reunion has its own life. Coming together with relatives that you don’t see regularly can guarantee new revelations that sometimes surprise you. Our family is no different from any other pasty white family with German roots.
Over the years we have become diversified just like everyone else. Along with a variety of skills and talents, we have become mixed both racially and with different sexual orientations. As astounding as this is when each addition is announced, it flavors the group. There isn’t anyone I would trade out. Together we make a perfect family.
Since most revelations come out at the reunion itself, I commented to the beloved husband as to what the big announcement would be today. We both laughed thinking there isn’t much territory left to discover.
Oh how wrong we were.
Midway through a pleasant but so far uneventful reunion, we found out that cancer has again invaded our group. This is one very unwelcome visitor.
That’s when the sadness started. Cancer is not reserved for the old or the folks with bad habits. It’s an equal opportunity invader. It can turn your life upside down. It changes your dreams. Your goals become short term. Looking forward to retirement in five years? How about being alive in one?
Maybe it’s just me but I get more emotional. Before I left I made sure to hug absolutely everyone there whether or not they were related. Didn’t matter if they weren’t huggy people (my family is not a huggy family at all). Everyone got a dose of Kate.
Now we all pray and hope for the right answers and outcomes.
Oh yes, the other thing I found out at the reunion is that I cannot, absolutely cannot, drink caffeinated coffee. I was up most of the night. Or maybe that was the big C stopping by for old times.
Clipart courtesy of clker.com