A family member passed away this morning. As sad as it is when someone passes, I try to express gratitude for their time in my life, and the joy I experience as a result. George was the husband of my mom’s first cousin, Twila. Every summer, my family would stay in their home when we traveled out to Pennsylvania for our family reunion.

The reunion was always in July at Sunset Park in State College, right around the corner from JoePa’s house. We’d blanket the tables with homemade casseroles and desserts. The younger cousins would play a game on the baseball field. Announcements and prayers would be made concerning the happenings of the past year. We’d end the day at George’s house, catching fireflies and singing along while family members played their guitars and banjos.

A trip to Advent Cemetery was part of the trips, where we’d visit the resting places of my grandpa and other ancestors.

One summer, while swinging on the porch, a young girl walked around the side of the house with a basketball in her hand. In a fraction of a second I was by her side asking to play. Her family lived upstairs from George, so I was able to play with her every summer, and we were pen pals throughout the rest of the year. We’ve been dear friends for over 30 years.

The Central Pennsylvania Festival of the Arts (Arts Fest) was usually taking place on the same weekend, so we’d join the crowds and view the creations. I still have a photograph hanging on my wall from one of those artists. The festival takes place in State College, home to the Pennsylvania State University. I fell in love with the campus and the spirit of the university. I knew from a young age that I would attend and graduate from Penn State. Everyone knew of my dreams, but George took an extra step to help me feel like my dreams were within reach. One summer, George drove me out to campus and walked with me to the gates of Beaver Stadium. No one else was around, and he and I just stood there staring into the stadium, my mouth and eyes a lot wider than his. He was so patient, standing there for who knows how long, while my mind swirled with all that was to come. I hope George knows how grateful I remain for that gift.

Grandma passed in 2005. She was our matriarch and primary connection to the reunion. It was in that same period of time that most of my cousins had moved out of their childhood homes, gone off to school or the military, started careers, and started families of their own. It’s not that family became less important with her passing, but the reunion seemed to fall by the wayside for the younger generations. There are a lot of us and we’re well spread, but maybe we’ll find a time and place to reunite. While there, I hope to be able to provide an impactful experience for a younger relative, the way George did for me.