The last time my family hosted a family reunion was August 22, 2010. The day before my son was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes.
That long ago day in August is a painfull memory for me. My son, age 6 at the time, did not want to come out of his room and play with his cousins, he didn’t want to eat, and he didn’t want to participate in any way. He had lost so much weight–and all the family were commenting on how skinny he was. As person after person commented to me about his weight and lack of participation in the party–I felt like the worst mother ever. I knew he had lost weight–but my husband was a wicked skinny kid–so I thought my son was taking after his Dad. I also thought that my son’s not wanting to join in was because the beginning of full day–first grade was just days away–and I thought he was nervous–so wanted to keep to himself–also a trait his Dad has when worried about something or other.
August 23, 2010-we woke up to my son throwing up all over the place, peeing the bed, and screaming that his head hurt. We quickly drove to our local Urgent Care–believing our son had a virus, the flu, maybe Lyme disease. When the Doctor said Type 1 Diabetes our lives changed forever.
We didn’t have the reunion in 2011. I just couldn’t do it–memories of the previous year fogged my brain. This year-2012-my husband (who balances my crazy) insisted on having the reunion again. I didn’t want to–I wanted to never have a reunion again because it only made me remember how skinny my son was, how quiet, how unlike himself. Those memories made me feel guilty–why didn’t I see it sooner, take him to the doctor sooner, where were my motherly instincts in 2010?
On July 29, 2012-Reunion Party. Swarms of family, clams, hotdogs, swimming, and laughter. I saw my son and all of his cousins laughing, running, swimming, playing, and being kids-having fun. A great memory to replace a bad one.
I have a very smart husband.