Family Reunion

This week my whacky family will descend on me for a family reunion. Dad is flying in from points East on Wednesday and wants the hot tub turned up to 104 degrees for him. That would cook me—I’m post-menopausal. I better start heating it today. Brother Bill arrives from Kansas on Wednesday too. He’s the uncle everyone wishes they had. He makes balloon animals, skateboards, sings opera, juggles, throws boomerangs, and knows how to fix everything. Meanwhile, Brother Dan the rocket scientist and his lovely wife are plummeting toward us as they travel cross-country in a rented van with their three young children. Dan is re-enacting a cross-country trip we made with Dad when we were kids. I’m glad that Dan had such a happy childhood that he makes every effort to recreate it for his own clan. Although we camped at all the National Parks and Dan’s wife will have none of that—motel rooms all the way. Even so, they’ll be visiting all the same splendid National Parks on Dad’s tour all those years ago. My adult children will join us at KOA cabins near the beach in Santa Cruz over the weekend for an ocean-style family get-together. I’m looking forward to seeing the whole mishpachah, but it certainly is a lot of work. Food. Bedding. Towels. Beach gear. Camping gear. Ron says I love to organize this kind of stuff. The truth is that I hate to organize it but I love to have it happen and I don’t see anyone else stepping up to the plate. We’ll have the time of our lives. But I miss Mom.