Do you remember the story of Brigadoon? In case you don't, it is about an enchanted Scottish village that appears once every hundred years for just one day. To the villagers the hundred years seem to pass in the span of one day so things never really change for them.

I have a Brigadoon too. Since 1920, my mother's family has had a family reunion. Imagine something that has occurred every year for 90 years! There were a few years that they missed, wars, scattered family events things like that but they have almost always managed to get at least a part of the family together every year. For the last 10 years, a group of us have been meeting at my uncle's house in beautiful upstate NY. My uncle's family consists of 4 children the same ages as my brothers and I and we were all close growing up even though we lived several hundred miles apart. Guess what? Nothing has changed.


We now start arriving at my uncle and aunt's place on Friday (or in the case of people who are date challenged this year Thursday) and the fun never stops. We camp out in their yard and as the weekend progresses people come and go, campers come and go and food just multiplies until we begin to believe we are eating every 20 minutes or so. We usually have somewhere around 15 kids (although some of them are in their 20's) and somehow we almost always manage to have a baby somewhere to snuggle and rock. We take hundreds of pictures, put together a Power Point slide show which makes us laugh until we are wetting ourselves, drink some (although no one EVER gets stupid or staggering) have a wonderful campfire and an overall lovefest.


My siblings, cousins and I are all in our 40's and for some of us are damn close to 50, but nothing ever changes. For this one miraculous weekend, we are all children again. We physically get together one time a year but to us it is if only one day has passed. Monday morning comes and the most depressing picture appears when the campers are closed up and gone, the pop-up awnings are all gone, tables and chairs are all packed away, garbage picked up and hauled away, no kids, no flamingos (another story trust me), no laughter. Brigadoon has passed away for another year.


There is nothing in the world I would trade those few days for. I dread the day when we start to find ourselves making other plans, when it begins to seem like too much work or too much travel. I can't actually see that day coming but it may. Our older generating is dwindling faster than our younger generation is maturing and I worry that their bond is not as strong as ours is. I pray the enchantment of our Brigadoon is never broken.