The Family That Picnics Together

(This is another "dusted off" piece, but in keeping with yesterday's entry, good food for thought. If anyone in my family is insulted, I apologize. I love you all.)


We were approaching the due date of our annual family reunion picnic. My father was one of seven children who married and pro-created Catholic-ally, and I have twenty seven first cousins who are mostly married with children and grandchildren. There are only three of the original seven left, two uncles and an aunt.


When everyone shows up, we are our own little village...or circus depending on the pull of the universe and any one or forty three personalities having some sort of delusional off day. Last year, half of them were in a snit, and in the spirit of some weird unity, an entire block declined to attend. I was trying to remember exactly why this morning and had to think for a few minutes, which is always the way of a past unpleasantness whose origin is never as important as the result.


We had talked about doing a picnic for years and finally got it together just three seasons ago. After the first one, e-mails flew back and forth between the cousins about how much fun we'd had and how it brought back so many memories of us all growing up together. We had shared many 4th of July celebrations, riotous loud affairs when our young parents joined in to toss water balloons and horseshoes, and bocce that went on all afternoon. Of course, they were Italian picnics with the best food anywhere and all my favorites, Aunt Millie's eggplant parmesan and my grandmother's anisette cookies to name just two.


My father's brothers and sisters remained close by all their lives, to the benefit of everyone. Sunday visits to one or the other were the rule in a time when nobody was too busy for a leisurely afternoon. It seemed everyone was thrilled to be together again.


Then somebody got insulted somewhere between the fall and the following summer. There are a few versions of who did what and what was said to who. A couple of nasty themed e-mails were hurled and copied into the entire family e-mail address list. Many tried to soothe over the situation and some didn't want to get involved for fear of making it worse. There is no lack of loud and pointed communication skills in this family. I suppose the ensuing hard feelings still exist because I just learned that the succeeding group would not be attending again due to each individual having "a prior commitment."


One aunt turned 90. One uncle is 85. We cousins are in our 40's and 50's, with a few past the 60 mark. There have been some serious medical issues.


I don't know if any of my relatives read this blog, but who gives a damn who said what to who. Did you forget how nice it was to say "Hey, do you remember.... ?" That we looked at each others grandchildren and said, "Did you ever think.....?" We share this one remarkable family, warts and disappointments included. Get over it. Get on with it. Let it go. I don't want to be standing in some cemetery listening to your regrets.



POSTSCRIPT: After this was written, two of "the cousins" passed away. My brother John, and my cousin Dennis. May they rest in peace. And yes, I stood in the cemetery and listened...