Forever and Ever

It dawned on me this summer.  

It was a sunny August evening and at first I was mostly relieved that the three birthday cakes I'd made weren't mushy lumps of sugar and cream cheese, no one was likely to get salmonella from the BBQ chicken, and that everyone was there, sitting on my deck.  And by everyone I mean my dad, my sister, my five brothers (with a smattering of girlfriends) and of course, my husband and me.  Yes we had to use two six-foot tables and yes, at some point in the near future I will have to invest in more silverware.  If everyone ever decides to bring a date to one meal I'd like to offer them real utensils.
It dawned on me that as we all get older (and as the oldest child I'm a bit more sensitive about this 'getting older' part), more mobile, and-gasp of horror-collect more responsibilities that it will be increasingly difficult for everyone to gather in one place at one time for one meal.  Even if it is for one hour.
But for today we were here celebrating three August birthdays, inhaling (with all of us around the table if you don't eat fast you might not eat) Caesar salad, tater tot casserole, buttery garlic bread, BBQ chicken, and freshly picked blackberries (thanks KP!) with the general chatter about upcoming fantasy football, school, camping trips, and the like exhausted, the talk turned, as it usually does, to favorite memories--both childhood and more recent.  

And that's when it dawned on me that I'm afraid.  I'm afraid that as time goes on and it's harder to gather everyone together that we might start to forget.  We might forget that one 5K fun run or that one Christmas morning from six years ago.  Therefore I, as the eldest and most responsible, am starting this blog for the seven siblings because even though I didn't birth you, you are very much mine and as new memories come and go, we will always have the old.
Forever and ever.