The swing set sits empty, and the campfire is put out before all of the stars shine in the black sky.
Everyone is getting older.
For years, family camp seems the same. Each summer when the family gathers, the same games are played, the same traditions are followed, the same maintenance and projects on the property are carried out.
Seemingly out of the blue, the pace slows. Suddenly all the young adults are slow and tired and have an earlier bed time; of the older generation, some have left their time on earth and others sit and read rather than join the walks and hikes.
The former child is a teenager who sleeps in late and goes on hikes and no longer goes crazy over the campfire s’mores, but pretends to, out of respect for family traditions, memories and expectations.
The family patriarch, who designed and built the cottages and cabins and was all-powerful and could do anything, now mostly sits down and takes it easy. The tired body cannot keep up with the spry mind.
The family used to sit around that campfire late into the night, past the time the sky is completely black and stars shine magically. Now most can barely stay awake until the first star, which is probably just a satellite, sparkles, and most go to bed, because it’s well past bedtime.
Despite the aging and slowing down, one aspect of family camp remains the same. At 7 and 8 a.m., we are just as we were decades ago.
We it out on the back deck on the chairs and the porch swing with our coffees and teas. The rising sun casts a gentle glow across the land. We look across the field of ferns down to the pond and listen to the frogs croaking and the birds chirping.
Occasionally the voices gently murmur in conversation.
The family, though diminishing in number and in energy level, are together again.
