Monday, September 04, 2006

Labor Day Traditions

Came back this afternoon from an amazing weekend - exhausted, but amazing. :o) Every Labor Day my family (aunts, uncles and friends on my mom's side) get together for a camping trip. I've been going just about every year since I was fifteen years old. It was originally on the Saco River in Maine. We'd put all our camping gear in our canoes, cruise down the river, and camp out on the beach. We'd have 20+ tents set up in a semi-circle on the beach, and at night there was a giant bonfire in the middle - songs, s'mores, the whole nine yards.

Years went by, my aunts and uncles got older, kids (and more kids) were born, and the trip on the river got to be too much. We still go camping, but now we go to a more traditional campground. I don't handle change too well, so the transition was a difficult one for me. I mourned the loss of what was for several years. On the river, we were all there together - the whole time. People couldn't leave, there was no where to go. The tents in a semi-circle made it easy to socialize, or at least check out what everyone else was doing. There were volleyball games, canoe races, "Kowabunga!" and so much more. My favorite part was the community breakfast. Most meals, everyone fended for themselves. My mom was in charge of breakfast. She cooked everything - every morning. I assisted, but I didn't mind. It was tradition, and I loved it.

When we started going to campgrounds, things changed. I guess they had to. Each mini-family had their own campsite. You had to walk to find people. You never knew where everyone was because nobody was in sight. Then there started to be more than one fire! (I took this one particularly hard.) I'm not sure how that started, but apparently we have lots of people that like to light campfires. Now it's evolved so that not everyone comes overnight. Our less "hardy" family members have stopped even coming overnight. They drive up for the day, drive home and come back again in the morning. My mom is one of those people, so needless to say, breakfasts are gone too. (I'd take over that tradition, but more than likely no one would eat the food. :o)

I know this is beginning to sound like a "boo hoo" post. I definitely miss the old days, but I still love Labor Day weekends. I've learned to let go of my expectations and enjoy it for what it is. It's still about my family and being together - no matter what that looks like. I love looking around the sites and seeing everyone engaged in different things - Sudoku, poker, scrabble, soccer, frisbee... You name it. I love that our girls get to spend hours and hours playing with people that love them dearly. (They think their older cousins are gods. :o) I love sitting around the campfire at night and cracking each other (or ourselves :o) up. We also reminisce about the "old days". The Saco River has given my family more memories and stories than I could possibly share. Once we get started telling them, one just rolls into another.

Some things are the same. My Uncle David continues to challenge himself with Jiffy Pop on the open fire. (It's slightly less entertaining now that it actually comes our yummy. The burnt stuff was gross, but offered lots of laughs. :o) The poker games continue, and we have a cribbage tournament and horseshoe tournament every year. (My family is incredibly competitive.) The people are the same. My family, of course, but also the friends we've picked up along the way. Some friends of friends we only see on Labor Day. But we always look forward to seeing each other next year.

I walked around the sites this morning. Everyone was taking down their equipment and spreading it on the grass to dry. The tone was light, nobody's rushing, just doing what needs to be done. I love the fact that I've seen the same thing (almost)every year since I was fifteen. Another year, another fun weekend. A whole new set of stories to tell.

It doesn't get better than that. :o)

3 comments:

b said...

glad you had a good time.

Mrs. G.F. said...

I too hate watching traditions change, and even worse, end.

When I walk through the North End of Boston, I find it heartbreaking, I get emotional. Becasue the Italian American traditions in my family are ending, they die with me, we are now just Americans with bare glimmers of tradition left.

Good for you for enjoying what you have and what is continuing on, versus mourning what has passed.

J.Rowe said...

Sounds like a fun weekend. Change can be challenging good or bad. You are making new traditions for your girls.
When they are older, they'll be thankful for the camping trips the same as you are for your Maine trips.

As for breakfast, it's the one meal that I've seen you totally into...I'm guessing with a little practice you could make a mean breakfast!