Remember the Jim Hensen Muppet series called Fraggle Rock? I know my kids will because it was around in the 80s when they were young and we became firmly entrenched in its magic. The characters of this fantasyland that dwelt in caves amidst the basalt layers supporting an old man’s workshop were insanely cute and the weekly tales were fun and meaningful. My favorite part, though, was the music.
In episode 18 of the first season, a young fraggle, Red, was in search of “her song” which was a snippet of melody that would be different from everyone else’s. In the end it comes to her and after she starts singing it, all the fraggles join in, each singing their own unique little melodies which blend to become a beautiful community medley. Predictable, perhaps, but sweet and it reminds me of the song of our family.
Last Saturday we loaded up the minivan and made a trek to the home of Don’s aunt and uncle where members of our extended family converged for an informal potluck reunion. Aside from funeral gatherings, it was the first time in years that many of us had been together. Originally, the oldest members of our family reunions were the generation of Don’s grandparents and the small children running around were ours, but that older group is gone now, as are Don’s folks.
This time around, Don’s aunt and uncle were the reigning matriarch and patriarch, the parents, grandparents, and great grandparents of their brood; and their grown kids plus Don and his brothers and sisters were the next oldest. Wow. Somehow, we have become the grandparent generation, which was not only odd to realize, but was also bittersweet because it reminded us of those who were now both missing and missed; the notes that we would not hear again in this life. The people we had always leaned on were now gone except for Clyde and Carol. It seemed impossible to think that we should be expected to fill those shoes that we had long taken for granted.
Although the purpose of this rekindled K family gathering was still to reunite the older siblings who are already close, the secondary effect of introducing the younger generations of each sub-family was also reestablished. Games, food, visiting, laughter, storytelling, and the inevitable group photos drew together people whose lives had been moving apart, creating new memories that would be woven into a larger, stronger sense of family. And, as Clyde once pointed out to me, it is a time when it does no good to mark your potluck dishes and coolers with only a last name!
The day was ultimately a success. The tune was familiar, but slightly different. Some sweet refrains had been lost or taken up by new voices, but new little notes of recent years were added in their place. Overall, though, it is still music to our ears. See you next year!
In episode 18 of the first season, a young fraggle, Red, was in search of “her song” which was a snippet of melody that would be different from everyone else’s. In the end it comes to her and after she starts singing it, all the fraggles join in, each singing their own unique little melodies which blend to become a beautiful community medley. Predictable, perhaps, but sweet and it reminds me of the song of our family.
Last Saturday we loaded up the minivan and made a trek to the home of Don’s aunt and uncle where members of our extended family converged for an informal potluck reunion. Aside from funeral gatherings, it was the first time in years that many of us had been together. Originally, the oldest members of our family reunions were the generation of Don’s grandparents and the small children running around were ours, but that older group is gone now, as are Don’s folks.
This time around, Don’s aunt and uncle were the reigning matriarch and patriarch, the parents, grandparents, and great grandparents of their brood; and their grown kids plus Don and his brothers and sisters were the next oldest. Wow. Somehow, we have become the grandparent generation, which was not only odd to realize, but was also bittersweet because it reminded us of those who were now both missing and missed; the notes that we would not hear again in this life. The people we had always leaned on were now gone except for Clyde and Carol. It seemed impossible to think that we should be expected to fill those shoes that we had long taken for granted.
Although the purpose of this rekindled K family gathering was still to reunite the older siblings who are already close, the secondary effect of introducing the younger generations of each sub-family was also reestablished. Games, food, visiting, laughter, storytelling, and the inevitable group photos drew together people whose lives had been moving apart, creating new memories that would be woven into a larger, stronger sense of family. And, as Clyde once pointed out to me, it is a time when it does no good to mark your potluck dishes and coolers with only a last name!
The day was ultimately a success. The tune was familiar, but slightly different. Some sweet refrains had been lost or taken up by new voices, but new little notes of recent years were added in their place. Overall, though, it is still music to our ears. See you next year!
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