It had been years since everyone was under the same roof. Sisters, brothers, cousins, and the next generation or two all made the effort to come. The oldest living child, now a spry 87, was the guest of honor, keeping the family stories, recipes, and a sharp sense of humor that somehow survived eight decades and an entire brood of siblings. Everyone gathered with hearts full and expectations simple, bringing plenty of laughter, food, and perhaps a little bit of family mischief.
I won’t mention the name of the oldest cousin, but I will say I know him quite well. All the guests knew me very well, having enjoyed our wedding two years ago. That day remains a bit of a blur in my mind, which can happen to the best of brides. As each guest arrived, I could remember them celebrating with us, but some names remained elusive, and I needed to be reminded.
One cousin brought a smokeless fire pit which is the modern miracle that promised warmth without the eye-watering haze. Within five minutes, the air was filled with the unmistakable sound of coughing. “It’s smokeless,” someone said, waving a paper plate through the air, “but it forgot to tell the smoke!” If you’re considering such a contraption, plan to try one out first.
Everyone gathered around in spite of the smoke, swapping stories of barefoot summers and cousins who could run faster, climb higher, and stay outside longer than any of them could now. The laughter bubbled up like it used to, back when knees didn’t creak and adulthood meant dessert whenever you wanted.
And then came the cabinet.
It had been sitting there for decades. A relic from Grandma’s kitchen or maybe someone’s “temporary” storage project that had lasted half a century. Uncle T, a bit too full of energy, declared, “It’s time for that cabinet to disappear. Tonight, it burns!”
Before you knew it, there was a family engineering project underway. Chairs were moved, doors ripped off, and thrown into the fit pit. Quicker than “Burning Man”, we experienced “Burning Cabinet 2025”.
As the sun was replaced by moonlight, hugs replaced handshakes. The air was thick with “I love you”, “Remember when,” and “Let’s do this again soon”, even though everyone knew “soon” might mean a year or two.
This time, HHH volunteered ME for something. Next September, the family reunion will be at Winterpast! I’m already envisioning which piece of furniture we can offer to the bonfire gods. Thank goodness we have plenty of time to plan!
More tomorrow!