This strangest of summers included some of the best parties our family has ever had because they were all about remembering how fragile and precious life is and how much we all mean to each other. It was a blast, even though we're in mourning.
IN fact, the party after Dad's funeral lasted 48 hours, in two different venues and included at least one fist fight and a drunk dog. It was perfect.
Oh, I also wanted to say that a few days before Dad's funeral Mom announced that she would not be wearing black. "I'm wearing pink." she said. "He always liked me in pink and this is not a sad occasion; it's a celebration."
Most of us followed Mom's lead and it most definitely did NOT look like a funeral party.
Bill and Jen hosted after Dad's, just as they did after Roy's. Just as it was for Royana's, the weather was perfect and the pool was open. All my grandkids were there, so half way through the afternoon, I donned my suit and took the whole gang swimming. For about a half an hour, I had the pool all to myself and my grandkids (and Carly, who opened the pool for us) but then other members of the family began joining us and before the afternoon was very old, it became John G.s favorite thing: a pool party.
There was swimming, eating, drinking, laughing, crying, a slide show, a sing along, a music trivia contest, a fist fight and a drunk dog.
It was the best.
We all went home when we were too exhausted to keep going and then we did it again at my daughter's house the next day.
Day 2 had no pool but it included tacos, a huge hammock and a bonfire dance party. A bonfire dance party! Tot and BoopityBoop pulled out all their moves, and believe me: they've got plenty.
The golf tournament took place as scheduled but we've changed the name.
Every year we get closer to the day that one of the next generation will take the honors but it hasn't happened yet. In an all-family tournament, the pressure is intense. In addition to being pretty good golfers, all the players in my generation are really good at getting in your kitchen and messing up your head. Each of the last few years, someone from the next generation put up a good start and every year, on day 2, the uncles manage to force them to choke.
This year, Finbar put up a fantastic first round but on day 2, his Dad Mike took home the trophy.
The John G. Hubbell Memorial Invitational proves that age and experience still beats youth and beauty.
After the tournament, the party was at Tyler and Megan's place. It was our third giant family party in four days.
There was horseback riding, eating, drinking, dancing, singing, laughing and crying. There was no social distancing. Most of us have already had C19 but the few of us who haven't figured they were surrounded by people full of antibodies, so hey: herd immunity!
(That all happened a month ago and no one got sick. Sure, Gus tested positive and spent his first 2 weeks on campus in quarantine but he was asymptomatic, aka 'not sick'.)
Hubbellpalooza was split into two parts this year to accommodate our mourning. The first part, built around Royana's memorial, included at least three big get togethers and at least three smaller, impromptu parties. The second part happened two weeks later for Dad's memorial. I can barely remember all of what we did but it was fun. We've always had fun getting together and this year it was more important than ever because it was a clarion call to never take any of it for granted.
Dad got 93 years in which he accomplished everything a person could ever hope to do.
Royana got 47 years and was taken unexpectedly, in the blink of an eye.
No one is guaranteed tomorrow.
The way the world is behaving right now, you'd think Death was a new concept. I see little kids wearing masks to protect them from a virus from which they have statistically no chance of getting sick much less dying and it makes no sense. The chances are very high that my own grandkids have all already had C19. Mandating masks for these school kids is superstitious nonsense. The proponents of this crap are all citing 'science' for their stupid dictates, while ignoring the imperial evidence, which is that young, healthy people have far less to fear from Covid than they do the seasonal flu. Our despotic politicians seem hell bent on keeping us 'safe' until they can conquer Death itself.
Well, I've got news for them all: Death has been conquered and Science had nothing to do with it.
Go live your life, hug your loved ones and BE NOT AFRAID.