One Sunday in August

I have a very large family. Well, not my immediate family; that's pretty small--just the three of us. But my family is huge. I've got 4 older brothers, 8 neices and nephews, and countless aunts, uncles, and cousins. When my paternal grandmother died 3 years ago, she was personally responsible for adding 100 people to the global population count; I've lost track of the number of births in the family since then.

But I haven't lost track of the family That's because no matter where we go or how long it's been since we've seen each other, everyone knows that on the third Sunday in August we can show show up at Uncle Brian's place and reconnect with family.

It's a family tradition that's been going on for nearly as long as I can remember, this annual gathering of the clan. Over the years we've watched Brian turn a few barely cleared acres of land out on the edge of nowhere into his own personal paradise. What started out as a trailer sitting in the middle of the forest has morphed into an entire compound filled with play equipment, volleyball and badminton courts, mobile homes galore, firepit and even a personal pond/swimming hole. What hasn't changed though is the swarm of children fishing off the dock, eating coutless ears of corn, and clamouring for just one more wagon ride around the complex.

Oh, the children themselves have changed, of course. That's just the way life works. But the fact that there are still sticky faced children racing through the clusters of lawnchairs is a testament to the permanance of Family. We may not see each other often--sometimes not even annually--and we may not be able to immediately put a name to each and every face, but we keep coming back to join in and reaffirm that we are family, and no matter how tenously, we are connected.

When these annual reunions began, I was one of those children. I was one of the little ones left in the care of older cousins while my parents kept a slightly less watchful eye--free to socialize with the Adults knowing that the children were with family. As the years ran on, I became one of the cousins, happily tending to the babies of the cousins who had minded me. Babies like Taylor, the girl in the picture who is clearly not a baby anymore. Now, I bring my own 2 girls to Uncle Brian's and confidently leave them in Taylor's care, knowing that they will be safe and well cared for by this girl I've watched grow up, one Sunday in August at a time.

There's something very settling and reassuring about the sense of permanence this event brings to my life. That life may feel like an ever changing dance, but some steps, at least, repeat. Someday I imagine Taylor herself will arrive on the third Sunday in August with her own children in tow. And then Regan and Sabrina will be the girls on the wagon ride keeping the little ones occupied and safe. Because on this one day, we are all connected regardless of how disconnected we may be in our everyday lives.

I couldn't ask for a better family. Or a better wya to spend the third Sunday in August.

Comments

Yo Kimberely,
I must say, I was very impressed to learn how much the family reunion meant to you.
It is for this reason that I try to hold this event every year.
It is something I remember attending as a child & earlier adult.
I do know why they fizzle out, but I,m determined ours won,t as long as I,m sucking air.
Your Unc in NUKEEBERRY

Hi Kim. On the '3rd Sunday of August' you and I got to chat a bit about what was going on in each others worlds lately. That is when I learned that you were writing for ivillage. And that's when you and I got to talk for the first time about your situation and your kids, particularly Regan's condition. It was really great to have an opportunity to get to know you and the girls better that day. I too am grateful to Brian and Jan for allowing our family to re-connect each year.

Your Mom and Dad sent me the link to your blog and I got to read through almost all of your entries this morning. You are a fantastic writer and you certainly have a wonderful view on the whole "solo Mom" thing. I admire you greatly for who you are and how well you are doing raising your children on your own. You've certainly been handed some difficult challenges but you somehow manage to over come them and stand stronger in the end.

We are all so proud of you and admire you greatly. Keep that great smile.

Love Shelly

I've been reading all along, and your writing makes me smile. :) Congrats!

This summer, Rachel asked to come home (Kingston-Queens) just for the Roast. I think she, too, needs to connect with her extended family, remembering happy summers of yesteryear. Unfortunately, she couldn't get there, since it was Disney time for Mom ºoº. We'll try hard for next year.

Take care! Hug the wee girlies, and continue to count your blessings.

(Aunt) Debbie ºoº

I was molested at my family reunion due to that slightly less than watchful eye and the "it's all family" attitude. So caveat.

thanks for putting me on your site

My first thought when I read the thing about the "slightly less than watchful eye" was that when I was a child those things werent always safe. But, that was my family. Maybe "slightly less than watchful" is pretty darn diligent compared to our "downright oblivious" families. This piece made me smile. Family connection is a powerful thing. And you don't seem like a mom that would leave your children unsafe.

I hope you are keeping records of everybody. My ancestors had huge families too, and it has taken a long time to collect old records and photographs. Discovering one's roots, means find out the influences on you. Sounds like a healthy family grouping you have.

Don,t know who wrote that they were molested, but if it was at our reunion, you should have come to me.
I promise, I would have taken action!