Lest We Forget

Yesterday was the annual Rugg reunion. I am quickly becoming one of the old codgers of the group. It is through my grandmother Rebecca Rugg Miner that I am connected to that clan. It is a time of reconnecting with others that I don’t get to see on a regular basis. This year, we had more children walking, running, and yes, even toddling around than we have had in a long time. I can’t keep up with all of the names and have trouble remembering the names of cousins twice removed, let alone these little ones.

It is mostly a pot luck affair with so much food. Just sampling many of the dishes left me with a full stomach. There has always been a wide selection of main dishes, salads, and an even wider assortment of desserts. This is another year we have met in the Resh’s Park in Indian Head, Pennsylvania.

Those of who have aged to the point of slowing down used to play several innings of softball, but we have aged and our replacements haven’t aged enough to want to play. They are still too youthful.

Each year, we have become more self-sustaining by having a white elephant auction. Anything and everything might be hidden inside of the wrapped bags and paper. Good natured bidding will often obtain the item at a slightly inflated price.

This year, we shared photographs of many of our ancestors. They stirred memories in us oldsters and allowed the younger people to see the founders of our clan. One of the highest bids came to buy several copies of some of the older deceased Rugg relatives. They were in a large frame with a few empty slots for any other photo finds. Many of the older ones were sepia colored and some were black and white.

There were games for kids with water balloons of course and prizes.

I just thought, we must be really getting old. No one brought or threw horseshoes this year. Next year, I believe I will wrap a cane for the white elephant sale.