Every June my mother’s family has a reunion in Little Washington, Va. Usually, we have around 100, but this year was half that. The coronavirus has taken a large toll.
Above you see the family tree stretched out over the wall of our picnic shelter with my wife, Laura, reading it and my daughter, Ruchi, walking away from it. It’s produced by an octogenarian using an ancient computer on sheets of typing paper meticulously taped together.
Food is almost all home-cooked. There was corn pudding, fried chicken, deviled eggs, pies, and at least four different kinds of potato salad. I must admit I am vulnerable to all that country cooking despite my desire to eat “healthy!” It’s literally in my genes…
I only see these people once per year if that, and I’m willing to bet at least half of them are on the other side of the political divide from me. But, politics were not mentioned. Hugs were prevalent, as was hearty handshaking.
Where do you go to reconnect with your family? Or do you (my father’s side has no such gathering)?
“Without a family, man, alone in the world, trembles with the cold.”