Family Reunion

I am a firstborn of five. I have five adult sons. My firstborn son has four children. And there’s a good chance the next gen is just getting started. Which is to say, there is a great deal of potential—in the words of my California friend, Cathy—for this family to “be fruitful and multiply!” 

No kidding (:

Big families are amazing. Interesting and fun. And also exhausting. lol. Getting this tribe together is not for the faint of heart! We’ve recently had to switch our holiday gatherings from extended to immediate family. And in exchange, every couple of summers we try to host a reunion of sorts. Which happened this past weekend. And it was perfect. Every detail…weather and travel…sweet conversations…fifteen beds…and somewhere around a dozen hours of boat recreation. We are counting our blessings, and then some. 

Yesterday morning the Colorado crew loaded their minivan for departure. We stood in our driveway lingering over a predictably long Minnesota good-bye, finally nudging the last of the kids into seatbelts. And our sweet boy Jack was fighting tears. Later I remembered, how it was our 10-year-old nephew who’d quietly asked me to be his partner for a last game of bags. How he’d hinted in the morning about one last campfire. One more spin around the lake. He wasn’t greedy. Not demanding. It was the heartfelt longing of wanting something precious to last forever. And the childlike innocence to think maybe there’s a chance. And at the end of such a weekend, after all the planning and shopping and cleaning and sweat, it’s ten-thousand times worth it—for Jack. 

And also for Grandma. My Mom. Because no matter how old you are, and how far the birds have flown from the nest, a mom’s dream-come-true is having the original family back under one roof. And they were. We have the photo to prove it. 

Having the seven of us together was also significant for other reasons. Mom’s having heart surgery this week. A “procedure” to replace a heart-value, scheduled on her 81st birthday. And while we fully expect things to go according to plan, we’re also aware that life is fragile, and our people are meant to be cherished. 

Mom also chose this weekend to unveil a surprise. Something she’s been working on for many months. A memoir of sorts.* Mom’s been busy gathering memories, collecting photos, and recounting a lifetime of stories. Fun stories about growing up in the 50’s. Hard stories about heartache and loss. Stories of faith and family. A labor of love, getting it all down, and she kept the whole thing a secret, even from Dad. And then, Sunday afternoon, with 35 of us assembled under the shade of a lakeside patio, Mom gifted her family with her very own book. Janet Eastvold Life Stories. An absolute treasure. 

It’s been a full week, and today I breath deeply, and acknowledge my depth of gratitude. I have an amazing family. An awesome inheritance. And a very faithful God. 

In the words of a favorite Psalm—

For you have been my hope, Sovereign Lord,

    my confidence since my youth.

From birth I have relied on you;

    you brought me forth from my mother’s womb.

    I will ever praise you.

Since my youth, God, you have taught me,

    and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds.

Even when I am old and gray,

    do not forsake me, my God,

till I declare your power to the next generation,

    your mighty acts to all who are to come.

Psalm 71:5-6; 17-18 

Four Eastvold generations, minus 4 grandkids, 2 spouses, and one great-grand.

*Mom’s book was created through Storyworth