The Reasons We All Come Back

After a chaotic end to July and August, I've spent most of the last three weeks away from my desk. First to my brother's lake house in southern Michigan for Mom's 80th birthday with the entire family, then to a swim meet in Clovis, California with 31 young swimmers, then a brief escape to the Broadmoor with Rob, then Aden's quarter-century celebration with a Noah Kahan concert and birthday dinner. Tomorrow we head out to climb 14ers in central Colorado (weather and legs willing), with hot springs to follow.

But let me focus on Paw Paw Lake, where the family hilarity began before we even arrived. On the drive from Midway, Rob scorned a Justin Timberlake song on our family playlist. William, with perfect subtle vengeance, restarted the song every time a track finished. By the eighth time, our giggles had turned to hysterics while Rob maintained a long-suffering grip on the steering wheel.

We arrived to find all eleven nieces and nephews, my three brothers and their wives gathered by the lake—playing cornhole, fishing, sprawled in the docked pontoon boat, tearing around on jet skis. Our kids grabbed a frisbee and immersed themselves in the chaos while I began my three-day effort to catch up on the busy lives of my siblings.

Mom and Karen arrived that evening to a roaring welcome. Stories flew across the porch like seagulls evading capture. Family songs erupted and the little ones looked bemused as adults devolved into "remember whens." Remember when Dad fell backward in his chair at Christian's wedding? Remember when you had a cheeseburger in your pocket for six months? Remember when Nana and Papa sang "Islands in the Stream" in drag for their 45th anniversary?

That last question sent us inside to Karen's YouTube channel—family videos from past reunions. I lost composure immediately, laugh-crying through every frame. My young nieces and nephews delighted in spotting themselves as round-cheeked babies, held by various adults, participating as best they could.

The next day brought more activity. I rode a jet ski behind William, clinging to his life vest as we tore across the lake at 60 mph. My grin became so fixed my teeth dried out. Aden and I paddleboarded. Carol and I walked a beautiful trail. Mom unveiled gifts for everyone—bookmarks and cards—and we circled around reading our special quotes aloud, voices catching with tears.

On our final evening, we celebrated Rob's birthday at a local winery where a band played. We danced, retreated to shade, snacked, danced again. One brother tipped the band to play "Happy Birthday" with a raucous second verse that had Michael slapping the table and Rob threatening to abandon the dance floor. We gathered for our ritual family photo outside near the vines—all twenty-four of us beaming in bright sunlight, the youngest attempting escape as is tradition for family photos.

This is what we come back for - to remember who we are together. To hear the same stories told the same way and have them land differently each time because we're all a year older, a year changed. To dance to a song we don't know with people we've known our entire lives. John and Carol created the space for it. The rest of us showed up and filled it with laughter, tears, jet skis, and "remember whens." That's everything.

How Swede it Is

We emerged from the T (tunelbana) into bright sunlight and bracing clear air. After an early morning flight from Copenhagen to Stockholm we were befuzzled and starving, so after stashing our luggage with the Frantz Hotel (a building from 1647 that provided excellent lodging and breakfasts) we walked to Gamla Stan, the old town, on one of Stockholm's fourteen islands. We happily took in the pastel-colored fronts of the buildings as we ate burgers on gluten free buns and toasted to William's 20th birthday. 

After lunch we wondered into the parade for the daily changing of the guard at Sweden's National Palace, admiring the shiny, helmeted brass band and the beautiful matched horses as the soldiers clopped over the cobblestones to exchange duties in front of the huge palace building. Then on to the Nobel Museum, William's choice, a fascinating look at the history of Alfred Nobel and the 120+ years of prize-winners.

The temperatures warmed as the day went on, and (after we rested) we walked down the Monteliusvagen, a scenic walkway that looks out on Lake Malaren and several of Stockholm's main islands. On our way back to the hotel we encountered a music video in the making which used a Bugati Chiron, according to William a 3-million-dollar car that he never expected to see "in the wild." He snapped a few pictures from the top of a nearby staircase and sent it to a few friends proclaiming his "birthday present."

We took in a panoramic view of the city on an nearby hotel's rooftop bar, thronged with Swedes in sunglasses enjoying the first nice stretch of summer weather. Stockholm and its waterways spread out around and below us and the sun - still high at 7:30pm - twinkled off spires and windows. An unbeatable day.

Friday we jaunted via commuter ferry to Djurgarden, an island full of museums, to enjoy another spectacular day. Hordes of blond Swedes accompanied us on the ferry and Aden overheard a local explaining the crowd to her visiting friend: "it's not a holiday but it's the first nice Friday of the year and people took the day off." Our early start helped us beat the crush to the Vasa Museum which enshrines an entire 17th-century gunship that sank in the harbor on its first outing.

Then to the open-air museum of all things Swedish, Skansen, where we had ice cream and realized we had once again found the center of children, strollers and baby carriages. We walked by the Abba Museum but it was sold out until the next day, much to Daniel's dismay. Rob's knee was bothering him, so we cut the walking a bit short and tried to absorb the celebratory feel of the city and its residents.

Our last day was taken up by a boat tour on Lake Malaren and the Baltic Sea, observing the rest of Stockholm and its many preserved green spaces, as well as historical sites and rapidly evolving waterfront spaces. The boys did a little more shopping downtown, finding the H&M and Lululemon storefronts looking much the same as they do near our home Park Meadows Mall.

As luck would have it, the weather - combined with the joy of nearly everyone we saw - lifted Stockholm to great heights as one of our favorite cities. The trees and tulips bloomed away, boat horns honked happily, and our visit fell into place. Next stop would be a night in Copenhagen followed by the long journey home through Reykjavik (where my suitcase would get an extra night), but that's a tale for another day.