It was one of those once in a blue moon weekends. A weekend that only happens every 5 years. Every 10 years. One of those “We shall never pass this way again” weekends. One of those weekends that feels like a month.
That goes too fast. That flies by. That is a marker for the rest of our lives. One of those, “I think it’s been 10 years, no 20 years since I last saw you.” Since that last grand celebration. One where family reunited after living their own lives for 30 years. Since you last saw them.
One where you see that everyone else has aged. Just like you. That you have all grown up and have fully grown children. But the last time you saw each other you were both teenagers. Or the 22 year old was a babe in arms.
A weekend when you realize that everyone grew up and got married, just like you. A weekend where your daughter, now a grown up, meets family who remembers her when she was 2. A weekend where you try to catch up with so many people and meet those 25 cousins you haven’t seen in forever.
A rare weekend of celebration. An overwhelming weekend that changes your life forever. That reforges old connections. Old relationships. Where you boil down the last lifetime into a 45 second synopsis.
Where you meet too many people. Drink too much coffee. Sleep too little. And wish it would never end. That was my weekend. It was over too fast. And all sorts of wonderful.