Reunions

Union is the state for which humanity was created.

And yet most of us live in a series of goodbyes and griefs. I am sitting in an airport as I write this, which is wonderful because it enables us to come back and connect, and yet also sad because it represents the transience of those connections.

The life of an international worker involves a constant state of being on the way from and the way to, of anticipating resuming face-to-face relationships and remembering the ones that have been suspended due to the disjointing of time and the dislocation of place.  But so does the life of most people in 2019. Hence, the REUNION. The re-raveling of the family network. My parents both grew up in West Virginia, the kind of state from which people with a bit of education and ambition have tended to move in the last century. The Appalachian tradition of the family reunion is strong. My mom gave me a West Virginia cookbook for my birthday, and a surprising number of recipes included the word reunion in the title or the appropriateness of the dish for taking to a reunion in the description. When my dad's brothers returned alive from WWII in 1946 (he was 11 going-on-12) his parents instituted the annual June tradition.  This past Saturday marked 73 years of doing so.

My mom, me, Julia, and Scott at The Reunion

The top of the Split Rock, our family's central physical location.  My grandfather and great grandfather lived in a cabin next to this massive rock which is split down the middle. Julia is making sure young cousins don't drop into the 30-foot crevasse.

My grandfather and grandmother's names carved in the rock

Pre-reunion pizza night at our farm for the cousins who arrive the night before

Hiking up the railroad tracks

Me (in red of course) and my cousin Doug in 1962 above, 2019 below 

Gathering to pray before the pot-luck massive spread of food on Saturday

With my cousin Bruce at Split Rock

Three generations

Since we were in the USA for May/June for Jack's graduation (and Acacia's and Krister's) and Luke's wedding, we extended the extra week to be able to re-une with the Aylestock family, and I'm so glad we did. Badminton and cornhole, cakes and homemade ice cream, old pictures and new spouses, swimming in the river and walking in the woods . . . it was a solidly memorable weekend.

The week before, we had a different sort of American reunion tradition--Scott's 40th year from graduating from Wyoming High School in the suburbs of Cincinnati, OH.  Considering that many had not seen each other since then, or perhaps only once or twice, it was a strong turn out of nearly 100 former classmates and a couple dozen of their spouses.

While I can't fully defend all aspects of social media, I have to say that this reunion gave me a different view of facebook. Many of these human beings were teenage friends, and have used fb to interact in a way that makes them truly care about each others lives. Care enough to drive and fly long distances to see each other once again. Care enough to know about important things. I found myself hearing about family deaths and losses, moves, dreams, jobs, memories in ways that seemed real and deep.

While in Cincinnati we were given time to speak briefly at one of our supporting churches. Again, the sense of long connections over many many years, of sacrificial giving and the stability of continued partnership, boosted our souls.

The intersection of Scott's High School and Church friends . . 

And time for dear friends from Medical School that work short terms still in Africa, teach global health, and send us the best packages over many many years!

Reunions are a picture of redemption.  Here's to many more!