Reunite with “Relative” Ease
Here's an interesting statistic: approximately 200,000 family reunions take place across the U.S. each year, with roughly 28% of families gathering annually and 70% of families getting together at least once every five years. Some sources report a decline in family reunions due to the passing of older organizers, geographic scattering, and the reliance on social media and messaging apps, which are replacing some of the incentive to gather in person.
However, families like the Hubbards in Connecticut, who recently celebrated an impressive 170 consecutive annual reunions—believed to be one of the longest-running in the U.S. —are maintaining a strong commitment to reuniting. High-five, Hubbards!
In a world with superficial digital and media "connections," remote work environments, and loneliness epidemics, I say family reunions matter more than ever. Here’s why. Family reunions:
Strengthen bonds by reconnecting geographically distant relatives and bridging generations.
Preserve family history through stories and traditions, ensuring they aren't lost forever.
Build a sense of belonging. Everyone is part of a larger circle of care.
Celebrate milestones like anniversaries, graduations, or new additions to the family.
Create lasting memories with fun activities and moments that become family lore.
Pass on traditions and gives younger generations a living example of family values.
Thanks to Lake Blue Ridge, the perfect place for multigenerational gatherings, our family is among the 28% who get together every year. This summer's attendance peaked at 24 members, ranging in age from five to 94 (excluding dogs).
Without a doubt, one of the reasons families don't gather is that reunion logistics aren't simple. Organizing reunions hard. Choosing the week when everyone can attend, coordinating travel, room, and board for 24 people for up to a week—that's five houses and 13 group meals—can and does happen, but it’s like an act of Congress getting it done.
I'll admit, as one of the primary reunion coordinators and co-directors of Basecamp, I typically start to fall apart between days three and four from exhaustion and overwhelm. But for reasons I'm about to explain, even this year's lightning strike that fried our Starlink didn't steer me (completely) off the rails.
It has taken a decade, but I've determined three actions that can help everyone reunite with relative ease.
Adopt the reunion Mindset.
Family WEEK is not family VACATION. One of my husband's many mantras is, "It's all about the brain." Yes, you are taking precious PTO, and typically that means warm sand and calm ocean waves with someone you don't have to talk to handing you a margarita that you didn't have to climb forty-five steps to achieve on your own. But if you head into Family Week with any notion of "chill," then you will be level-five disappointed. Get over it. There will be no chilling at Family Week.
Instead, we engage. We make, eat, and clean two meals a day, then we hike, bike, float, boat, fish, swim, paddle, tube, ski, swing, and game—every single day. It is crucial, especially for the introverted participants, to accept that there will be almost constant interaction, but for taking a kayak down the creek (an acceptable outlet), sneaking away for a nap (very much frowned upon), or a whole night's sleep (mandatory). But don't sleep too late, you may miss out on morning exercise followed by sourdough biscuits and sausage.
Assign Meal Teams
Some clean kitchens and some "prefer not to get in the way." In a world without a plan, midweek, the chronic cleaner may start picking fights and throwing pans. No longer! Instead, a team is responsible for planning, executing, and cleaning up the entire day's meals. How you assign the days and teams is up to you: by house, family, gender, birthdates. Our teams are multigenerational, which is a lot of fun. Uncle Gene directs the boy team with a pre-game huddle and handwritten instructions like Hoosiers meets The Bear. We girls drink Rose and collaborate more loosely, which is why the next day, I'll find the mushrooms I forgot to sauté. Regardless, when your team day is over, you are Scott-free to lounge and perhaps, momentarily, chill.
How do you keep from eating the same thing over and over? This year, we created a shared note where we logged our day and picks and then discussed how to manage all the chicken — chicken kabobs, lemon chicken, fried chicken, chicken quesadillas, and chicken salad. So much chicken.
Best of all, the food organizers no longer had to field circular questions about what was for lunch or dinner from the dozens. "Visit the note!"
Create functional, organized spaces.
Our lake dock consists of two single slips, which we welded together. One has a top deck with lounge chairs and a hammock, and the other has a low-slope metal roof that does a great job sheltering our pontoon boat year-round from the weather. My daughter struggles with the space because it "lacks Feng Shui," which is a nice way of saying it's tacky. It's form following function, but I love it because it's like a small house with lots of rooms and tidy cubbyholes for everything the masses need. We may not have a fancy dock, but we do have a dock box, hanging hooks, a shoe shelf, a tote yard, a boat yard, a float yard, a garbage bin, and a paddle pen. For years, these increasingly well-planned nooks have kept us from tripping all over Family Week.
We are fortunate to have a growing family, so this year, we made a capital investment in Family Week by adding a small, covered pavilion we call the Redneck Yacht Club Bar and Grill. It's just a gangway away from the floating dock action, featuring a grill for hot dogs and stairs leading down to the lake for the hairy, hot dogs.
Why would we invest in more space over a fancier dock that has better Feng Shui? Here’s the best analogy I can muster: The first Kentucky Derby had 10,000 fans in attendance. One hundred fifty-one years later, Churchill Downs, for one day a year, mind you, has space for 165,000 people. I'm not suggesting you spend a lot of money building more space, but the Churchill example is apt in a metaphorical sense. They invest in expansion because that one horse racing weekend, the Kentucky Oaks and Derby, supports the entire organization for the rest of the year.
"Build it and they will come" is a manifestation that works, and family reunions are a commitment to that same enduring support.
The "spreading out of families" is real. Our transnational Family Week group represents eight different states, excluding colleges (which would add two more). Yes, we have the Fam Jam and True Pride text threads, which feature funny memes and happy birthday cake emojis. However, physical contact only occurs a couple of times a year and is limited to smaller, more intimate groups.
Family Week is not a vacation, but rather a time for attending, planning, and playing the World Cup of Quality Time. It's hard work that requires dedication, core strength, and a solid organizational structure. Still, it's worth it for all the reasons outlined above and because, after a year or more of inevitable personal change, we get to know each other again—genuinely. We REUNITE in a way that closes the distance no matter how far.
