Proud to be a Pearson

All the family--then--at the first annual Pearson Family Reunion. My Aunt Kathryn is second from the right, standing up. I'm either the girl with her hand on her heart or the one at the end with her hand on her chin...I think.

Sometime in the early 1980s, we got a letter in the mail from my Aunt Kathryn. I still remember the wording, since it was posted on the corkboard in our kitchen for months. In Aunt Kathryn's very cool writing it said, "Here Ye Here Ye, Announcing the First Annual Pearson Family Reunion at Timp Lodge..." or something to that effect.

This was very big news. Very big. We were going to have a family reunion! At Timp Lodge! Where was Timp Lodge? I didn't know and I didn't care. It was going to be a big awesome vacation and all my cousins were going to be there! We were going to be sleeping over! And there was going to be a talent show!

The reunion was everything we hoped and dreamed it could be. Timp Lodge was fantastic: giant bedrooms awaited us upstairs with bunk beds that seemed to go on for miles. There was a game room and a piano (perfect to sit around and sing "The Rose" while cousin Natalie played for us), and best of all, a giant stage that proved to be the perfect venue for the greatest talent show ever performed in a family reunion, I'm sure.

For a little girl of seven years old, the reunion was heavenly and ended all too soon. Yet, there was talk of a reprise. Soon, talk turned into concrete plans. A year later, we were all back together at the Lodge. A yearly tradition was born, carrying me through my childhood and up through my mid-twenties. As cousins married and had children, more and more folks came to the Lodge. All were welcome; all were family.

It wasn't until I met Trent that I realized everyone's extended family didn't operate the way mind did. Trent knows the names of a handful of his cousins; he's close to one cousin; other aunts and uncles are only vaguely familiar. With not a little arrogance and quite a bit of Pearson-Family-Pride, I let him know how sorry I was for him. Poor man. He never got the joy of reunions at the Timp Lodge.

It's probably been a little over a decade since we had our last family reunion at the Lodge. However, forever bonded by shared memory, experience, and genuine friendship, the family stays in touch via Facebook, Blogs, email, and, of course, various get togethers: bridal and baby showers; sister retreats for the aunts, Christmas parties; there's even been a family cruise, with another one in the works for 2012.

And so as our annual trip to Utah drew nigh, I found myself hoping that for another extended family get together, another chance to see the cousins, aunts, uncles, and family whom I so adore. The week before we left to Utah, the phone rang with unexpected news: Aunt Kathryn, the one who had started it all, had passed away peacefully in her sleep. The funeral would be Thursday, the day after we arrived.

The funeral was held at Aunt Kathryn's church in downtown Provo, yet another place filled to overflowing with family memories: it was here we always gathered for Thanksgiving, since there were far too many of us to fit in one home (did I mention this part yet?--10 siblings, 45+ grandchildren, who knows how many great-grandchildren...we just keep a-growing).

As I walked into the foyer of the chapel--forgive me for this part--I was overcome with joy. There was my cousin Anaise! I whispered to Trent, "Oh! It's Anaise! I have to go say hello!" and then suddenly there was Michele! I had to hug her, too. Then Karina! Then there was Cade and Jill and their new baby! Oh, and there was my dear cousin Warren--how I hoped he would come! Then I saw Aunt Judy! Aunt Ellen! Aunt Carma! Aunt Anna Marie! Uncle Keith! More came. Then more. I couldn't hold them in my arms long enough. And since I couldn't make time stand still, I just let it wash over me in waves.

So went the day. At the cemetary I watched my Mom hoold on to all of her siblings. She loves them. I thought of the impossibility of having to bury one of my sisters and could barely keep from crying all over again. Uncle Dan teased me. Aunt Ellen and I cried. Trish and I sat down in the gym with my cousins Anaise, Rhyetta, Karina, and Warren and laughed and talked and reminisced.

At the end of the day, I felt refilled, replenished, and at peace. Is that strange? I've tried to reconcile that feeling with the fact that it was my Aunt's funeral. I've thought about the difficulty that her children now face, without their mother and their father, both of whom passed away far too soon. I've thought about life at the Pearson reunions without Aunt Kathryn, and truthfully, I can't imagine it.

What I've come to realize from that day is that the peace and joy I felt came from the connection to something bigger than myself: a connection to a wonderful group of people who are my family. I felt proud to be a part of them, grateful--immeasurably so--for the gift they each are to me.

And then I thought, perhaps then this was Aunt Kathryn's greatest gift, her legacy to us. By bringing us together as she did so many years ago, she gave us a sense of belonging and togetherness that we would not have felt otherwise.

And I felt grateful to her from the depth of my heart.