Waiting At The Finish Line

First of all, I'd like to thank the 9 dedicated visitors to this blog over the past year even though I've offered nothing in return. Nine.

I opened the last rough draft and saw this:

"The highlight of my summer was the family reunion on my side of the family."

And so, I must finish it. I must finish writing about the highlight of summer. Last summer. Shocking I know. Luckily though, nothing worth highlighting happened this summer, unless you count moving. Again.

Our typical family reunions happen about every two years either at Disneyland, or in Vegas, or camping in the mountains. But this year, we all agreed to meet up in Indiana. My husband told everyone we were flying to Chicago out of embarrassment and it was true, we were flying into Chicago. And it was true, the first part of our vacation was in Illinois (pronounced without the 's' on the end please) and not even Indiana.

The five of us flew into Chicago and stayed a night there before traveling down to Nauvoo. Visiting Nauvoo felt similar to going back in time, and not because I had been there as a child, but because the town is so remote and the restaurants were antiquated and maybe because we stayed in a log cabin. Our cousins from Nevada joined us by our second day in Nauvoo. I remember it was hot and uncomfortable and I got tired of all the walking. But the highlight of this leg of the trip was watching Makayla hoist Travis on her shoulders because he was hot and uncomfortable and he was tired of all the walking.

And after all the walking around that remote town, we drove to Liberty on our way to Indiana. This was most memorable to me as a young child and hope my children feel the same way. We were only here a short time partly because it's a small tour, but mostly because we couldn't wait to see cousins waiting in Indiana for our arrival.

We arrived to my home town for a reunion, which was centered around a triathlon, but which included much more than just that event. I was sure to parade my family around my favorite spots growing up; Hier's Park, 354 Sherman St, Memorial Park, Sunken Gardens, the Wabash River, the High School, and my mom's grave site. I showed off how to use maple-tree seeds as Pinocchio noses from the same tree in my yard growing up, how I used to sled down the bank of the Wabash in the winter, and where I used to ride my bike past my friends' houses to the park two blocks from home.

Now my family knows where my grandma and aunts lived, where my mom is buried, how to eat an elephant ear, and some key people who were a part of my life growing up in that small town. They were bored. I could tell. But they never complained, except once when I sat on a swing at the park for too long. I was lost in the memories and the joy of that swing. And so they waited.

And they got used to waiting. On me. Especially on the day of the triathlon.

All 6 families were represented with 8 of us competing participating.  Thirty two family members all wore red to the triathlon event. Those not participating held walkie talkies and were spread through out the race in groups to spot us and cheer us on.

The race began with the youngest male participants and ended shortly after my age group of women, so of course I was going to be one of the last of our family group to cross the finish line. I didn't want to be the last one, though. Amy and I started the race together, and I especially wanted to beat her. I rented a faster bike,  had more swimming training, and I was hopeful. But I lost my goggles in the swim, wrecked my bike, and finished about 10 minutes behind her in the end. The highlight though was finishing my last mile with my niece who happened to still be on the course with me.

Crossing the finish line, I saw my family there waiting. All 32 of them wearing red t-shirts that read, "Miller Family Reunion". The paparazzi was there too to take our pictures and our statements for the local newspaper.  I wanted to collapse with exhaustion and then freeze time and keep my whole family with me forever.

One of my favorite pictures I took was in the restaurant after the race and after crying. It was ending too soon and I needed more time with them. All 32 of them.

Directly after eating, our family of 5 left my family of 32 and drove back to Chicago to fly home. We were exhausted, but our hearts and our cameras were full of memories. I enjoyed every moment of this family reunion.

I'm sure my mom was there. I bet she was at the finish line even. Wearing red.

I imagine she enjoyed every moment of this family reunion too. And she keeps waiting.

Families are forever.