Good Things About Family Reunions

There are a few reasons I've gone over a week without posting, but I hardly feel obligated to invoke them, since I'm still well above the average update frequency of most of the blogs I regularly read.

Michelle, Toby and I went to Saskatchewan over the Labor Day weekend, which for us made it the Labour Day weekend. The occasion was a family reunion/80th birthday celebration for my grandmother. Though neither family reunions nor Saskatchewan would normally rank high on my list of things to do for fun, it was an excellent time. I was genuinely glad to see quite a few relatives whom I hadn't been in touch with for years, and also to spend some time with the ones I knew well. My cousin Travis, the radio DJ and serial dater, who seems about to transition smoothly into television and a committed relationship. My other cousins Dennon and Tenille, who scare the adults by dressing like roadies for Marilyn Manson and are a lot of fun to hang out with. And my own sibs, Brad and his wife Stacy, Derek and Brianna. Just amazingly cool and fun people. They would still be some of my favorite people to hang out with even if I wasn't related to them. Perhaps more so. And they're all so damn good-looking! Seriously, they look like Abercrombie & Fitch models. I feel sexier just knowing I come from their gene pool. I wish I'd taken pictures so you'd believe me, but then all you single people would be posting comments to ask for their phone numbers and...well, anyway.

Of course Toby was the center of considerable attention. His exploding vocabulary, fascination with trucks and tractors, newly clipped hair and expertise in pointing to parts of his body when instructed, were all declared the utter zenith of cuteness. He reveled in adoration, the first and only great-grandchild of the line, plying his Canadian cognates with giggles and grins. It was fun to be his parent.

But what wasn't fun was what happened on Sunday morning. Michelle (14 weeks pregnant) started bleeding. I'll cut short the suspense and let you know now that everything is fine and the baby is healthy. But it was a scary day. One of my uncles, a doctor, examined her and reassured us as much as he could that everything would likely be alright. Michelle stayed in bed at the hotel, missing the main banquet and family photo. The next day the bleeding had slowed but not completely stopped. We flew home as planned; Michelle went in to see her midwife on Tuesday morning and heard the heartbeat. Cue sigh of relief.

What gets glossed over in this précis is the unique dynamic of experiencing such a stressful moment away from home and among people you don't get to see very often. We visit my family at Christmas or on summer vacation; we spend a week or two with them and then leave again. Or they come visit us for a weekend and it's an event; we go to a museum or a play. The point is, we don't do real life with them. We don't have normal days together, and certainly not horrible days. The mundane is reserved for our family and friends here in Minnesota, and during a brush with tragedy like this Michelle would normally have been surrounded and supported by her close friends. Instead, it was my mother and my brothers and sisters who sat with us, were scared with us, held our hands and prayed with us. Even though the story ends well, I hesitate to say this made it a good thing, but it's an aspect we're glad for. Even if the worst had happened, we would have been glad we were with them when it did. They're wonderful people and we wish they shared more of life with us.