Grateful for summer traditions

There are a good many traditions we all hold dear in the summertime.  Ballgames, picnics, the beach…  So much fun to look forward to!  Twenty years ago we started a tradition that carries through to today and is one I look forward to with great anticipation, joy, and love.

I was a newlywed that had lived here just less than 3 months in 1995 when my birthday took place on a summer weekend.  I was profoundly lonely having just left my home, family, friends and moved to a town where the only people I knew were the hubs and our puppy.  Birthdays had always been special and spent with family in years past, and now I was here and missing them all.

But the hubs got that and planned a surprise to have my brother and a girlfriend come for a visit.  Along that weekend was a couple we had gotten to know through the hubs’ work.  They were a little younger than us and had been married about 3 years before we were.  On a company-sponsored weekend away a couple of years before, the four of us really created a nice bond and grew the beginning of a nice friendship.  This particular weekend at our house was a stop for them on the way to a 2 week family vacation at a cabin north of here and the overnight was a nice “break” in the 10 hour drive from their home.

That night was so fun!  Too many margaritas, fireworks in the back yard and a lot of laughter.  Poor Kris (wife of our couple pals) was pregnant with their first child and she was a spectator (instead of participant) to a lot of silly, drunken escapades since she could not drink.  I simply cannot imagine the tales she has in the back of her mind of the group of us and watching it all take place.  The next morning, she and her husband arose and packed up to head to the cabin with a wave of the hand and some crazy times tucked in the memory stash.

The next year, they called and asked if stopping on the way up would be OK again.  OF COURSE was the answer!  This time baby boy #1 was in tow and we fell in love with our new “nephew.”  Two people we love and now a 3d in the mix.  The tradition was started.

A little further down the line, “nephew” #2 came along and we were just as in love with him.  The nights up to the vacation were planned and now in some cases, included the night on the way back to “rest” during the 10 hour trek home.  Rest stops for the night at our home at some times were less rambunctious on the part of the adults since there were other responsibilities, but no less gleefully anticipated and planned for here at our house.  Two little boys now added to the joy in the anticipation the hubs and I had with their visits.  We could not be more excited for their arrival.

More traditions fell into place with their visits.  And to this day, each has a spot that is nearly always observed with the memories of the previous years in place as we play out a new year.

Dinners on the deck with laughter and stories.  More than a few beers, some visits there are pitchers of the hubs sangria.  Laughter and more laughter in the night air.

Dinner at a local spot that started when son #2 was just out of diapers.  One year he ran into the men’s room before mom could catch him, proud he go could on his own.  As she stood in the doorway, a biker in black leather stared her down.  She explained that the little man had run in and may need help and she needed to get him.  Mr. Biker held up his hand “WAIT HERE.”  It had to be earth-shaking to have this stranger dressed in somewhat intimidating garb “handling” this situation.  Mr. Biker returned to announce to mom “the little dude is sitting down, he’ll be out in a second, and we’ve got this covered.”  The bar manager explained to mom that Duncan (“Mr. Biker”) had kids of his own and mom had no reason to worry, he really did have the situation carefully handled.  In a brief moment later, the little man and Duncan emerged from the men’s room hand-in-hand with big smiles.  Mission accomplished.

Breakfast on the morning of their departure is another tradition that never changes…the hubs’ French toast with special ingredients and made with Texas toast.  The boys talk about it with excitement before arrival and the hubs could not be prouder to make it for them.  The tradition has enlarged and now the hubs makes extra to send along so that they can put it in the toaster for later.

In there have been baseball games, concerts in the lakefront park, and local festivals with lots of fun.  There have been trips down to our beach to see the river.  The boys have gone from little people that put tiny arms around my neck and small smooches on my cheek to grown men talking about college and so tall I loop my arms around their necks and they lift me high off the floor in their hugs.  They have deep voices and hair on their faces now.  They are incredible, bright, funny, loving nephews and I am beyond proud of them.  To have our lives blessed with them is incredible.

Time with their mom is my cherished tradition too.  Kris has been there to hear my frustration, comfort me when we traveled away together after my parents and the pups died, laugh with me at some of the crazy things, share secrets with, and talk about life, wine, parents and the things two women talk about who connect like we have.  She is one of the few women I do truly feel don’t judge me and really do love me with all of my “oops” that come along.  She has heard the deepest of my pain, I believe.  I can be myself with her and we are always good.  I have been with her at some of my worst times, when I am just feeling awful and so bitchy and she takes me to a place where I just laugh and for the moment forget that I am struggling.  She said one time that she thinks I’m her “sister from another mister” and I feel the same.  When she leaves and I watch as they drive out the driveway and turn the corner, there is a long void in my heart as that day drags on until she texts and says they are home.  I miss her so much and wish we were closer than the 6 hour drive.  This weekend as they left, we promised not to let the time go a year without a visit.  I am committed to that because the time goes way too fast.  And it's great therapy over a bottle of red...I cherish that.

Where did 20 summers go…

This summer tradition has changed over the years as the boys have grown and gotten into sports and gotten jobs and time frames for travel and schedules had to be juggled.  I can only remember one summer when we did not see them.  The hubs and I have planned for and waited with breathless anticipation at their arrival each year.  And felt our hearts sink in goodbyes watching them leave to go home until the next summer.  The tradition has been one that has morphed and grown and yet stayed the same. 

I cannot imagine a summer without them.

I hope the boys will somehow continue the tradition of coming to see us with their folks, or on their own as they grow into their own adult lives and create their own families.

I hope my “sister from another mister” and her hubs will keep the tradition going as the nephews lives change and they become empty nesters.

I hope this part of summer stays, does not change.  After all, that’s tradition and I love this one.  I feel like Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof watching life change and loving the traditions we so want to hold close.  Please keep this one sacred so I can love this part of summer.

And yet, this tradition can stay and we’ll find some new ones maybe too with them and growing families in years to come.

I love you guys, miss you more.  Here’s to our tradition of summer.