My parents were married in 1972. They were young, just out of high school and beginning college. I didn’t realize it for a long time, but it was a bit unusual for them to have stayed together, especially having connected so early. My parents have been married my entire adult life, and in 2022, they celebrated their fiftieth year.
That meant that my siblings and I organized a bit of a family get together. All of us, and most of our significant others and children, turned up, over a dozen stuffed into two cabins in southeastern Oklahoma. The heat was triple digits, but we had great air conditioning, and were near a lake with swimming holes, as well as trails for hiking.
Before we went anywhere, my mother gave me a quilt she’d made for me, based on my “kayak cowgirl” nom de plume. It meant a lot to me, the images she found, including a cowgirl lassoing turtles. I belong to a club with turtles for a mascot.
Mostly we stayed around the cabin and played games, music, caught up. It’d been three years since most of us had seen each other; even longer, back to the holidays before Covid began. We did get outside though, starting with me taking my nieces on a hike.
We walked along the river, enjoying the cooling effect it had on an otherwise dry, hot day. I started to point out water features like eddies and holes. David and I think this might be a section that is technically runnable, but it’s pretty technical.
Back at the cabin, in the evening we saw deer. The little ones also saw a grasshopper up close, and later, we would hear, then see, a woodpecker.
The next day, I spent time with the younger nieces, my youngest brother’s twins. We took them to a petting zoo.
Afterwards, we went to a swimming hole. My brother took the girls out first using some donut-shaped inflatables. We swapped in and out a couple of times. The next day, we returned with most of our party.
At the cabin, there was a statue of a girl playing flute. My father wasn’t the only one who noticed she was holding it incorrectly, but he was the most vocal about it.
I brought an instamatic camera, the kind that takes old Polaroid-style photos, but sometimes a modern selfie worked best.
One fun game involved an inflatable “club” and having to convey complex concepts using single-syllable words. My brother makes for a good caveman.
The centerpiece of the week was on our penultimate night. My brother – the caveman, pictured above – had taken old family photos, added some narration from his daughter, and gotten video kudos from our cousins about our parents, and stitched them into a video assaying the past fifty years. It was quite touching and brought back many memories, and perhaps acted as a primer for newer additions to our family.
The night after, however, was my favorite. My father is a musician, and we’re talked about singing some songs together, mostly Woody Guthrie songs. Every Okie has to know some Woody Guthrie. We sang, and added some more songs for a singalong, entertaining the wee ones and the old; watching my dad perform, as well as getting to sing with him, was really great.
The last day, we packed up, cleaned up, and went on our way. David and I would spend a couple more days in Tulsa; most of the rest went back to their lives, one pair driving up to Wisconsin.
It may have been the first trip to see family since Covid, but it surely won’t be the last.