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Summertime is filled with vacations, reunions, and visiting.  My friend Michele just returned from a family gathering in Maine where parents, aunts, uncles, children, and grandchildren convened to celebrate ‘family.’ She reconnected with cousins she hadn’t seen in years, and as they greeted one another in the summer breeze near the coast, the laughter of shared experiences filled the warm air. 

Some of my fondest memories are when my fun-filled family once congregated in the backyard of a relative’s house in the hills of Tennessee.  Tucked-away memories renewed tales of old sprinkled with giggles and tears.  Those who lived long ago were reborn when their life stories were retold.  

I wonder how such a boisterous group of folks suddenly became silent.  The loss of my loved ones occurred too quickly, and those who remained scattered beyond the hills into their separate worlds.  

When friends share their summer reunion stories, I am reminded how much I miss those happy family moments.  Heaven is now where many of my relatives recount tales in the backyard of God’s house. 

I often write about my cousin Bobby, whom I began to know well just a few short years ago.  What a joy it is to be related to the person who reminds me of my father and the Walker clan with his wit, looks, and honesty.   When I see Bobby Walker, my heart goes home.    

And then there is Ann, my first cousin.  Like me, she lost her siblings too early, and sadly, we lost touch for over 50 years.  Now, that is ridiculous since we are only one year apart in age, and our dads were as close as two peas in a pod. 

From the beginning, Ann and I were quite different—at least, that’s what I thought.  We didn’t look or act alike, and I am not entirely sure we liked each other!

Because of Bobby and our shared love of Walker family memorabilia, Ann and I reunited recently.  I traveled to her home, bringing old pictures and heritage-related stores.  Such family photos, heirlooms, and stories would play a significant role in our reconnection, sparking memories and conversations that bridge the gap of our 50-year absence.

 When I pulled onto the pasture road leading to her lake house in the Tennessee hills, I never imagined Ann residing in such a quiet, serenely beautiful place.   When we were young, I envisioned her in a mansion and I in a barn.  As I said, we were different.

She greeted me with a hug and welcomed me in.  Within moments, I realized we had lost much more than mere years.   She married a terrific man and bore two beautiful daughters.   Her dry humor reminds me of her mother, whom I adored.   She is also a writer and should pen more absolutely hilarious op-eds like the one for which she won an award long ago.

  Her writing reflects her wisdom and charm, often sprinkled with insightful observations and a healthy dose of funny satire.

The more I observed her, the more I realized how much we resembled each other and our cousin Bobby.  

This discovery of our similarities brought a sense of joy and belonging that I had not felt in a long time.  

  After all these years, the delight of finding Ann is a testament to the enduring, unbreakable power of family bonds.  It’s a comforting reminder that no matter how much time has passed, the love and connection within a family can prevail.  

Ann and I tried to make up for our 50-year absence in three days, but time cannot be regained, nor can the loss.  

Families are carefully bound together by God’s hands.  Such unions are to be treasured, and we should always gather to remember the profound significance of kinship.  We can battle each other over different ideas or philosophies, but we must remember we were placed together for a reason.  This realization should fill us with a deep appreciation and gratitude for our relative connections.  

For most of us, our family is our safety net.  When the world’s harshness overwhelms us, there will be that cousin, sister, or brother who will help us weather the storm, providing a sense of security and comfort in the face of life’s challenges.    

I can’t recapture the lost years with Bobby or Ann, but I am beyond joyful knowing that we are a part of each other because we share a bond that time or distance cannot erase.  We are kin, and one day, we will gather again in God’s backyard and laugh at the joy of it all. 

“Family is a bridge to the past, our comfort in the present, and our journey to forever.”   L.W. Gendusa, Southern Comfort