Muddy Banks

Sean climbed onto the bank to explore while I waited in the raft. The moment he stood up, his feet slipped out from under him and he landed on the muddy bank, sliding back down into the water. I watched him struggle to get his footing until he was able to pull himself back onto land. Keeping a watchful eye on him as he explored, I drifted close to shore in the raft, listening to the rippling of the water and the rest of the family playing downstream. It was just a day at the creek with the family. Just a day of catching crayfish and splashing and exploring. Just a day of making memories...

Quite often when I think of my family, I feel like it's us against the world. My oldest just reached his seventeenth birthday and I am starting to realize these days are numbered. Soon he will be an adult and will set out to make new memories with his own family. Of course, I'll want to share in those memories also - how fun it will be to take a multi-generational camping trip and tell stories to my grandchildren about when their daddy was little and used to call chicken nuggets "nummy guggies"...

I'm getting ahead of myself...

When I was growing up we had Christmas Eve at my Aunt Patricia's house every year. It was a fun time. My mom was one of six kids and all who were able would attend with their families. I would play with my cousins, my mom and aunts would sit around the dining room table playing board games or card games or word games - and get quite boisterous - while the men would stand in the kitchen or sit in the living room chatting about whatever men talk about.  I remember little details: mini cherry cheesecakes, punch with sherbet in it, my uncle Billy pretending not to like kids but not really fooling us some of us...

My niece and I have talked many times recently about those Christmas Eves and discussed our mutual wish that we could bring everyone back together and just do it again. One little visit to the place of our fondest memories - the center of a large, fun-loving family.

A few weeks ago I traveled to South Carolina to be with my relatives for a different kind of reunion. We were there to mourn the tragic loss of my cousin Vickie. It was a sad time and not at all the kind of family reunion my niece and I had talked about.

I realized while I was there that I had not seen most of this family since my dad passed away 16 years ago. Part of my visit was a complete immersion in memories and a sense of belonging that I had forgotten about. The other part of the visit was an odd outsider feeling, as though I was a spectator in someone else's life. Same experience as my last South Carolina trip, I suppose, but stronger. Even though I can't return to them, it was nice to be reminded of those special memories that were made as I was growing up. Those memories that were "just another day" back when they were being made...