TimmyDaddy: Attending a family reunion

By Tim Sullivan

As compelling as a group of adults all wearing the same t-shirts can be, I never thought of my family hosting a typical reunion event. No one has a farm and we’re not wholesome enough for organized picnic games or Shasta, but for years it seemed unnecessary. While 10 is a lot of siblings to corral, we all make decent efforts to see each other. It seemed improbable when my brother Steve, our resident family historian, pointed out that the last time we were all together was at my wedding over nine years ago. We’re not making t-shirts yet, but it does seem apropos that we circle up once a year and we did in late July.

Marty is the perfect one to host this shindig at his home on Long Island because he and his wife Justine are equal parts organized and laid back. They also have a pool. Also Justine’s parents live next door and they graciously offer up their house for further accommodations. Also, as Elliott is quick to point out, Marty’s kids have Xbox.

Our cousins, the Hendersons, joined us, too, so the day was a blur of laughs, career updates and what grades and sports the kids are getting into. Knowing our time is limited makes for a somewhat manic catching up. It’s like speed-reunioning. I kept finding myself on one side of the yard and looking back over to the other and thinking wasn’t I just sitting at that table talking to Maureen and Eileen a minute ago? An ongoing cornhole game attracted eager participants and overeager hecklers. Food came out in waves and Margo kept jumping off that diving board over and over again. Every time I asked Marty if I could do anything to help he’d say “we’re all set” and then disappear to fetch another 40-pound bag of ice.

Impressed by how fit Bill and Cathleen are looking these days, my cousin Frank went on to assess everyone’s fitness levels. When queried, I dutifully reported that I try to run four days a week. He runs five. My brother John narrowly ousted me in the most colorfully dressed competition. My eldest brother, Mike, frantically cleaned, as he is wont to do when visiting family. I found him scrubbing down the kitchen counters while everyone else was downstairs on the patio level.

He had unearthed a box of bakery treats called Rainbow Cookies (although calling them cookies is giving them short shrift). Really they were chocolate-ensconced miracles, 16 to a box, and Mike said I just had to try one. Usually, if it is a family party and Mike is in the kitchen, Pyrex dishes explode. Usually. “Stupid plates” might be occasionally smashed to pieces, but if the only result of Mike’s kitchen meddling was discovering these delicious treats that had been overlooked then, heck, good party!

I ate one of the cookies and my nephew Emmet had two. I thought we had better get them downstairs before the three of us ate the entire box. They went faster than mom’s famous brownies back in the day. Turns out this was ill-gotten booty though. The treats were brought as a gift by Rob and Suzanne for Marty and Justine’s 20th wedding anniversary. They were to be enjoyed after the family circus left town. I felt terrible about it and wished we had merely blown up a Pyrex dish.

Of course, the cookie scenario pretty much typifies every time I get together with my family. There is an avalanche of love and laughs and sweetness and it is always too short and it invariably finds a way to break my heart, just a little. Despite ample assurances from Marty and Justine that it really was not a big deal, Mike and I contacted the bakery the following week and sent a replacement box of rainbow cookies to trick them into hosting again next year. I’ll be in charge of the t-shirts.

Tim Sullivan grew up in a large family in the Northeast and now lives with his small family in Oakhurst. He can be reached at tim@sullivanfinerugs.com.