Last week my three brothers and I met for the first time in seven years.
Husband Brian and I went to Vermont, where brothers Emerson and Angelo live. Mike is in Connecticut.
Previously, we had relied on summer vacations in Colorado and the weddings of our respective children to bring us together.
Now that we’re grandparents, the summer vacations have been relegated more to immediate family members while the idea of a multi-generation reunion of any sorts has proved too daunting for this calendar-challenged family.
But last week’s reunion gave us inspiration.
Even after that long of a hiatus our conversations picked up without a hitch as we reveled in each other’s news and memories.
Saying goodbye was tough.
None of us use social media on a regular basis.
We all still have all-consuming jobs and figure if we need to know something significant about the family we’ll get the word.
That attitude likely comes from us growing up when writing letters was our main form of communication.
There’s something to be said for that distancing, the “no news is good news” philosophy.
When my parents dropped me off for college, our communication was sporadic.
If I was confused or upset, I wrote in a journal.
I had dozens.
In today’s world, that must sound harsh. And lonely.
