Reunions

This has been a summer of get-togethers of the significant kind.  Namely, the sort of people-gathering that occurs rarely but with smashing success and memory-making on the epic scale.

It began with the trip to Colorado for the wedding of my niece, Bethany, sole daughter of my eldest sister.  Six of my mother's eight children, along with their spouses or significant others and their children as applicable, came together under one sky and roof for the first time since . . . um, er, hem and haw . . . a really long, long, super long span of years.  I think that the summer of 2003 witnessed the meeting five of the eight in two separate events with one switch of a sibling for another.  In all these cases, the bookend kids, Brother Kevin the oldest and Brother Gary the youngest, were absent from the festivities.  That is a shame as they are both delightful men for whom I have much affection.  But they had personal circumstances which kept them from joining the noisy fray which comprises our motley crew.

I often tell people who haven't met my big sis, Laurel, that her level of activity in all areas of life (save for maybe walks with dogs, writing and push-ups) make me appear to be a rather mellow yellow gal.  By the height of the arched eyebrows in response to this declaration, one can surmise this is saying a pretty big something!  While I'm a social caterpillar but require significant portions of alone time, my social BUTTERFLY of a sister uses her alone time merely to rest and plan significant portions of together-with-her-peeps time.  She's also a service-oriented person when it comes to showing her love and appreciation for the people in her life.  I'm much the same.  So, when I made my trip in late June for Bethany's wedding, with two of my kids in tow, the thrust of my visit was to be at my sister's beck and call for whatever she desired of my energies and time.  She decided that utilizing my love for, and talents with, cooking would be of the most benefit.  While I initially felt a mild case of the nerves, wondering if I could meet her expectations or stand-up to her requirements, my final resolution was to simply throw myself into everything I did for her with love and gusto.  As it turned out, the whirlwind of final planning and execution in the few days before the ceremony kept her so incredibly occupied that I was gloriously on my own in the kitchen.

Save for the first night of our arrival, when Laurel fed us with a deceptively quick-and-easy low-country boil of corn, potatoes, shrimp and sausage, the cooking light was mine to switch on and off.  She had only to raise her head with a request before the pantry and fridge doors were thrown wide open beneath my appraising gaze.  I nourished the able bodies of the Laurel legions with fragrant red rice flavored with golden raisins and pumpkin seeds, vegetable stir fry, homemade whole grain biscuits and turkey bacon gravy (leftovers from feeding the bridal party the morning of the big day), fresh fruits and nuts, sunlit-from-within lemon curd (including a special butter-free batch for my gluten-/dairy-free mother-of-the-bride), among other things.  There was quinoa and eggs and mimosas, though not in that order.  And later, after the excitement had died down, most company had returned to their own homes, and the married couple was whisked off to their honeymoon, a select few of us enjoyed red velvet cake-in-a-cup . . . not to be confused with actual cupcakes.  Out of necessity, I employed a paper coffee cup as both knife and serving bowl, thus beginning a grand family tradition for years to come, I hope.  Mention must also be made of the fine red wine I enjoyed -- one cup a night -- from the cellar of my discriminating bro-in-law: he finds labels and varietals at steal prices with uncompromising palate-pleasing potential.  Though the outdoor wedding in a glorious mountain setting was a most memorable event, not to mention the hoot of an indoor reception which followed, the most enduring memories are those which -- surprise, surprise -- revolve around me loving others through food: the bride and her ladies-in-waiting, my organized planner of a sister, her extremely proficient and hard-working husband, and the amazing friends who unselfishly gave 100% effort to all that needed doing.  There is much satisfaction, as well as blessing, in giving to others above and beyond that which they require.

Frosting on the bottom, cake at the top!

 Hungry happy young women.

 The multi-tasking sister . . . 

 My bro-in-law and my lovely statuesque niece.

 I wasn't exaggerating about the venue!

           Mark, Me, John, Laurel, Craig . . . Rebekah was also there.

Two other reunions followed in almost rapid succession.  The interesting fact there is that it was never my intention to attend those.  One trip, one airline ticket, one full week away was enough.  I left my son in Colorado for a month of visiting, relative-hopping if you will, with the intention of having my husband return home with our boy after HE attended the reunions: HIS family reunion, also referred to as the second meeting of Galvanstock/Geiserfest up on the hill in Uncle George's and Aunt Donna's back yard; AND the big La Veta High School multi-class reunion happening on the exact same weekend.  Intentionally planned to coincide on the part of his family.  Two birds, one stone.  Anyway, as I was saying, I was NOT going.  But my sweet husband kept at me, "I wish you would go with me" over and over and over again.  My resolve melted.  Especially after he told me over coffee at Starbucks after an impromptu night and day away together after I returned home from the wedding, "One thing I wish you could change about yourself is doing more things spontaneously, without so much planning."  
So, right then and there, I Googled Southwest Airlines on my iPhone and checked on the off-chance that there was a miraculous ticket available.  I.E.  Affordable.  Lo! and behold! Round-trip to Denver for under just under $250 popped up.  Before my husband could wave the steam away from the rim of his cup o' joe, I had tapped my way onto his flight.

 Playing it cool with a jelly-filled donut.

And then he asked that I keep it under wraps.  As in a secret.  From everyone.  That included my sisters, his sister, his classmates on Facebook (save for the organizer who took our check to cover three people at the class reunion banquet/dance) all the cousins, our son who was, if you recall, in Colorado, his mother, EVERYONE!  Aaargh.  I did it.  For three weeks.  It was tough.  But I successfully deceived everyone.  I went so far as to employ my constant presence on Facebook as a means to a dishonest end.  Uploading pictures from home fed to me by my daughter, Ashley, who didn't tag along on this outing.  I even posted a photo of Jimmy and his bags waving to the camera as he headed for the ticket counter.  In Pueblo, I brought wee shimmery tears to my little sister's eyes when I showed up on her front porch with a knock to ask for the use of her restroom -- Jimmy and Zachary had dropped me off down the street before heading over there themselves.  "Oh my gosh!  Twice in one month!  It's like you LIVE here!"  My sister-in-law was totally surprised when I rang her doorbell a full fifteen minutes after her brother entered her handsomely decorated home.  And though my son inadvertently gave away my presence to MOST of the gathered family in La Veta after arriving a quarter of an hour ahead of me and his father, the one girl I most wanted to shock, Laurie Geiser, my loyal childhood friend of earlier blog entry subject, did not discover the secret.  I hid in the dining room of our uncle's and aunt's home; Laurie entered the house to check on something her brother said needed attention in the guest restroom (whatever it was, she was actually ticked off at him, unaware that he was in on the game of subterfuge); when she entered the restroom, I walked in behind her, tapped her on the shoulder and said that I really needed to use the toilet.  You probably heard her delighted scream in your state, whether that happens to be California or Tennessee or parts in between!  It went on a good while, punctuated by excited speech that I could ju-u-ust make out.  And the way she jumped up and down I was sure there were springs attached to her fancy shoes.  And, yes, she cried full on.  True tears of joy.  I hadn't even given her late birthday present of homemade biscotti yet, either. Priceless.

A misleading picture if ever there was one.

I may have abused my Facebook privs!

But it was so-o WORTH it.

A Jimmy sandwich: Laur n' Glor

My biscotti plea: it worked!  Not a cookie broken.

What followed was 2 1/2 days and nights of jumping in the lake with all of the kids and teens, petting friendly horses, games and coffee, bacon and eggs, needy dogs and long walks, a parade, hilarious speech missteps on my part ("The beaver must be active" and "they stroked my eagle" amongst them) which gave way to all manner of good-natured tongue-in-cheek ribbing, keg beer and elk meat, Aunt Virginia's famed bologna spread, lemon bars and brownies, hummingbirds on the back porch, talking and chatting and catching up galore!  I slept in a borrowed eight-man tent more comfortably than you could even imagine.  **Insert special shout-out to Darrell Reagan, who erected the tent in which I chose to slumber.**  There was heaps of fresh air, mountain views upon mountain views, friendly stray kitties who could walk five miles, Charlie's ice cream -- double scoop of cinnamon and strawberry, endless photo ops which I did NOT let slip by, and lots and lots of Laurie G.!  Laur.  LG.  My friend.  Good times.  Yeah.

 I liked everything about this 118-pound guy . . .

except for finding out that the little Cookie who lives with him

cleans his eyes and drool with her little tongue.  Blechhh!

 Forced separation: weaning.

Never did have EIGHT sleepers in here!

 Many of the large local families were IN the parade.

This drastically reduced the numbers in the watching crowds!

This is Laurie Geiser's grandma, aunt, mom and brother-in-law.

 We ALL scream for Charlie's ice cream!

 Jumping into lakes from rock formations rather 

FREAKS ME OUT!  That's why I had to do this thing.

In the midst of all of this delightful family hullaballoo, there was still the matter of the LVHS class reunion.  I hadn't given that aspect of the trip nearly as much thought as the family aspect.  But I DID buy a new dress and clearance-from-Kohl's earrings!  Each day, Friday through Sunday, some scheduled event  brought together those who made the trip from several states, one even from New Zealand,  to reunite with old school chums.  I met plenty of people.  The night of the casual mixer, Friday, one man made a point to tell how my husband, Jimmy Valdez, and one of his friends, another Jimmy, were his heroes growing up;  He was very earnest about it.  I found it to be rather endearing.  It turned out he was the emcee at the dinner the following night and he told the same story there.  Doubly endearing!  In the crowd of attendees of this very small school was one woman from the Class of '35; I think she was 96.  The tables were grouped according to decades.  Those graduates of the '60's had the largest turnout.  Ohh, those baby boomers!  At our table, I had the chance to talk with several close friends of my husband's from those years.  Almost immediately, I felt welcome and comfortable with them.  One woman in particular had such an open and genuine spirit about her that I almost wanted to cry at her lack of guile.  Her musician brother was pretty cool, too.  They were both in a high school band with my husband and were quite good as I've heard it over the years.  We swapped stories about travel and church and personal history. Even touched on our faith lives.  In the final throes of the effects of an allergy pill, I gabbed on about how sweat was the great equalizer, even as the stuff ran down my legs in the food line.  But I DID rock my new under-$20 Ross dress, perspiration and all!  I snapped pictures at an alarming rate; I probably took more than the official event photographer.  I finally shook the hands of people I met via Facebook but had never laid eyes upon in the flesh.  In the end, what I came away with was a deep appreciation for the people with whom my husband chose to surround himself during his school days.  The ones I met that weekend were gems.  Cut from the same salt-of-the-earth cloth as Jimmy.  Good folks.  It was so evident that they still held Jimmy in high regard with continued affection.  It felt good to know that they were with him before I knew him.  It explained more of who he is.  Between his family and his friends and the small-town upbringing as an all-American lad, it's no wonder my husband is who he is today.  And I grabbed him up!  I'm grateful to his chums and family for helping to shape the man I have loved for over 23 years.

In between Annette, Laurie and Travette are Carrie and Chris.

The brother and sister of which I'm truly a heartfelt fan.

Another Jimmy sandwich . . . just a different Jimmy.

Same friendly gals at the end of a long but enjoyable evening.

(He and I and my MOM are Facebook pals.)

This is Marti.  One of my husband's pals from high school.

She's especially endearing after her announcement at the end of the banquet night whereupon she said that she believed Jimmy Valdez had 

MARRIED WELL.  Tell it like it is, gal!

Now, over a week into our return home, I'm certain the effects of this momentous and physically-challenging summer are still wreaking havoc on me.  But it was so-o-o well worth it.  Seeing my little sister outside of the hospital setting; witnessing the union of my niece to a young man who clearly adores her; enjoying the collection of relatives who congregated on the family hill where three homes of laughter and love have dwindled down to one; adding new friends to my collection of folks (it seems that I have an endless capacity for friendship); and having the best series of Colorado trips that I have ever EVER had!  My son, who starts his junior year of high school this Wednesday (is that even possible), has my assurances that he will be allowed to visit Wyoming and Colorado next summer.  As for me, I may be marrying off my eldest child AND visiting Germany in the spring.  My plate is full.

The mountains of LaVeta, Colorado.  A regal view of the sisters.