mischief

Scene:

The Q family gathers at a house in suburban California. They have just attended a beautiful service to memorialize their beloved wife, mother, aunt and grandma, and now are relaxing and reminiscing together. Most have changed into casual clothing and many are gathered around the pool in the backyard. The girl cousins are sitting at the side of the pool, feet dangling in the water, soaking up the warm sun. Suddenly, the women shriek. Someone has turned the sprinklers on, just behind them. All eyes turn to the boy cousins, CQ and Cousin D, who give each other high-fives while they laugh at their sisters and cousins.

Scene:
A few weeks later. It's Thursday evening, the first night of the Q family campout. There are tents and RV's encircling a grassy area in the middle of a redwood forest. One of the youngest cousins, CQ arrives with his two teen sons and begins to set up their tent. Once the tent is up, the air mattresses are inflated. This takes a long, long time. A small crowd gathers at the door to the tent. CQ's bed, in the center of a very large tent, is filling up the space. It grows and grows - it is the size of a queen bed and box spring, three times the size of the boy's air mattresses. Once all is in place, the bed is taller than the tent window and is visible from across the lawn. The family disperses to fix their dinners.

Scene:
The family is gathered around the campfire in the center of the lawn. Laughing, talking, teasing & story-telling ensues. Cousin R looks up and says, "CQ, what happened to your bed?" We all follow his gaze - the bed is no longer visible through the window. In fact, upon further inspection, it is utterly flat. Giggling commences from the family while cursing emanates from CQ. He leaves to find his air pump and start over again. Peace settles over the camp.

Scene:
Friday morning, and the family either bounces or drags from their beds. (We all have different morning temperaments.) Word travels around that young JC was the one who pulled the plug on the mattress. His mom, Cousin C, has a mischievous grin on her face. She is cooking up a revengeful scheme in payment for the sprinkler incident after her mother's memorial, and she is not done yet!

Scene:
Friday night, and the family is again gathered 'round the fire. Cousin C whispers to all the girl cousins that she has a plan for CQ's bed tonight. An hour or so later, the whispers go 'round again: the deed has been done. CQ's mattress is now deflated and hidden in the women's restroom. He discovers this development around bedtime. He retaliates by lifting up every seat in the girl's loo. (He was caught red-handed, but this reporter did not have the heart to tell him the truth: that women just think the restroom has been cleaned when we see the seat up.) Once the mattress is dragged out of the loo, it must be inflated. The family, knowing how long that will take, retires to their respective sleeping bags.

Scene:
Saturday morning, and the early risers have had their breakfast, but most are still snoozing. Yours truly rises and makes her way to the loo. On the return trip, Cousin RH (the designated photographer of the group) summons her over to a camper. Wanna see something? he says, and holds out his camera. The photo within is truly worth 1,000 words: CQ, asleep on his prized air mattress, on the floor of the men's room.

The Rest of the Story:
After he found his bed in the wee hours of Saturday morning, CQ went to his truck for his air pump. The car was locked. He located his key chain - which was missing only one key, the one for the truck. Not to be outdone, CQ had a spare pump! It had to be plugged in, so he dragged the mattress into the men's room and pumped up the mattress. Success! That is, until he realized that the mattress would not fit through the door. Exhausted (and perhaps a little tipsy), he went back to his tent, retrieved his sleeping bag, and fell into blissful sleep next to the showers. Sunup Saturday morning, Cousin RH went to take his shower, and found CQ, sound asleep. Of course he grabbed his camera. What else could he do with his time? (He couldn't shower...)

We love a good laugh!
from left to right: sister NQB, BIL GB, Cousin R, son Aa, CQ and Yours Truly
photo courtesy of young Cousin CF

heirlooms

campfires are not mythical, but they are magical.
(* photos taken by Cammy Fumar)

We have gathered every year since 1981. Before that, we were all together for most of the major holidays: Easter, Mothers Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas. But the family just got too large. There were spouses and in-laws to consider, then babies, and it was just too hard to get together every time a holiday rolled around. But we missed each other, dearly. We decided to chuck it all, and to gather together for just one weekend each year: a family campout.

shadows... taken from the inside of my tent

We get along. Brother & sisters, their children and their children's children ~ we love each other and value our time together. People I know say that this is unusual. Perhaps they think that we belong to the Great American Mythical Family. They may be right. Not that we don't have our troubles ~ every family does. But we also have something very, very special, and the Q Family Campout is where it all comes together.

The place and date varies. It's still tough coordinating schedules, not everyone makes it, but somehow we manage. We gather on a Thursday, and depart on Sunday. On Saturday night we have a big ol' potluck dinner, ("something to barbeque and something to share") and even those who are non-campers but are close enough to drive come and join us. Uncle Wayne says the blessing, and we all cry. It's tradition!

part of the great circle of prayer in 2009
not all of us are people of faith, but on this occasion, we bow our heads together.

We began a new tradition a few years back, when Grandma's centennial came around. I guess we're calling it "the candle ceremony", and that's as good a name as any. One hundred (or so) candles are placed on a table. In the center, two pillars in a glass hurricane represent Grandma and Grampa. Surrounding them are candles representing their four children, a son and three daughters, and their spouses. Next, the 16 grandchildren, their spouses, children, and so on.

*2010 - the original four families

The candles are lit in the order of birth, (those who are present light their own candle,) and with each candle the beloved's name and birthdate are spoken. Though we begin in cool darkness, we finish in warmth and light. It is a beautiful thing and never fails to move me.

2009

We miss those who cannot be with us, and rejoice in those who are present. We hug each other, sometimes laugh and often cry. It is a sacred time.

*2010

*2010

Aunt Alice

taken at a family campout in the 1989. see? her hands are full, working on a project!
(photo by my Dad)

This is my Aunt Alice. Dad's youngest sister, Mom to three daughters and a son, grandmother of six. Uncle Wayne's bride of 56 years.

Uncle Wayne and Aunt Alice on the beach, celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary
(photo by Russ Hyde)

These two are so in love. They always dressed alike. They retired on the same day, so as not to waste a minute of their precious time together. They cooked, fished, worked and played as a team, inseparable.

Give Alice any challenge, and she would accomplish it. Incredibly creative, her hands were rarely idle. She could always be counted upon to come up with a wonderful craft project or a delicious recipe. She always had an opinion, and she loved to laugh. She was a Presence.

Alice in the center, with Aunt Ele on the left and Grandma on the right, some time in the 60's.
(the Coors and the Salems are Alice's)
(photo by Dad)

That is why I miss her so. Even though in recent decades we only saw each other once a year, those few days were always rich with Aunt Alice's presence. Preparing food for our family's annual reunion this week, I found myself thinking, "hmm... Alice would like this..." and then I'd stop short, and remember that she would not be with us this year, for the first time ever.

She was a great lady, and I will always love her and miss her.