Flexibility and Tradition

In the Gibb family, Christmas really does come in July.  Without fail, July 1st is the Gibb family reunion and it really is the most wonderful time of the year.  I've been packing up and heading out to the tiny rural Alberta village of Hillspring for this holiday ever since I can remember.  And honestly, I wouldn't have my Canada Day any other way.  I love watching a parade that is so short it goes up main street, turns around, and then comes back for round two.  I love floating the ice cold river and roasting hot dogs at the river bottom.  I love drinking the yeasty homemade root beer and cheering for the winner of the "brew-off."  The July 1st reunion will forever be a tradition I cherish.

It's crazy to look back and see how much this holiday has changed over the years though.  Grandma and Grandpa Gibb no longer live out on the farm.  We have better things to do than go to the Great Canadian Barn Dance.  I no longer sleep in the teepee/cook car/garden shed/master bedroom at the Lodge with a bunch of my girl cousins, staying up late talking about boys.  Things have changed, but the first still lives.

After all has been said and done this first of July, I can't help but ponder something more.  Flexibility.  Isn't it ironic how we become less flexible physically and more flexible emotionally as we get older?  I'm getting worse at being able to touch my toes, yet after this family reunion I realized I'm more flexible in other ways.  There were small traditions I easily gave up this year without the slightest resistance because I had the emotional flexibility to allow myself not to care.  My 12 year old self would be so disappointed to find out that I skipped the foot races as a 24 year old.  Heck, I skipped the program too.  I almost didn't get ice cream at the infamous Glenwood parlour either.  Small things were different this year and I still had a good time.

Maybe growing up isn't so bad after all.