The Stutzman Annual Labor Day Bash
Labor Day is all about celebrating those of us who well, labor. Be it the factory worker that puts in long hours, the mom who takes care of her home and children, or the self-employed guy who toils endlessly to make sure his family’s ends meet.
This day is for us.
Not too long ago, it was just another day for me and my family. A day to maybe barbecue if the weather was nice, or maybe go see a movie. About seven years ago, give or take a year, that all changed.
My Aunt Fern, being the wonderful lady that she is, decided to attempt an annual tradition. She wanted us all to gather at her home in Benton to simply eat, sit around the fire, spend the night, and leisurely put our harried selves back together. She wanted a peaceful place to reknit and reconnect with ourselves and the entire family.
I’ll never forget that first time. It may not seem like much to you, but we knew something magical was taking place. We stayed up into the wee hours of the night talking and laughing. It was almost as if a magical curtain had descended to envelop those of us gathered around the fire. Lights twinkled from the trees, and Benton took on a magical glow.
George and I slept on a blow-up mattress assembled on their beautiful porch. Downy blankets covered our noses from the dew, and we woke up to a chilly, beautiful morning in Benton. Heather had borrowed a tent and set it up in the backyard, and a tradition was born for our kids. A leisurely breakfast ensued, and after the first time, a must-attend weekend was born.
This past weekend we once again gathered at the creek in the little burg of Benton. It’s become a weekend that the kids live for. Our kids are no longer small, but for weeks on end, they talk incessantly about Labor Day weekend. Its imminent arrival just can’t get here fast enough. When the day finally arrives and we descend upon Fern and Warren’s house, the kids turn into small children again. They play in the creek, swing high and far on the tree swing. They set up their tent, which this year, expanded to three rooms. Fighting comes next when they rush to the cars to grab their blankets and claim their spots in the tent.
Before too long, the tightly knit pack of cousins takes off to walk around the circle in Benton affectionately known as RIP. We tell them to behave, but for the hour they are gone, we can hear their hoots and hollers as they walk through town. I’m sure Benton will never be the same for their shenanigans.
I know what this weekend does for the kids. It takes them out of their norm and lets them become even closer than they already are. They can forget the world, just for a couple of days, and be kids again. Away from the sports, away from school, friends, and it lets them just be cousins. They are an unbreakable pack.
For me, this weekend is one to relax. The campers are set up around the perimeter of the garage. I know I can sink into the chair by the fire and forget the world. The twinkling lights strung through the trees serve to mesmerize and take our cares away. There’s something about laughter after midnight that stays firmly implanted into your psyche. It’s soul-soothing family bonding. It’s like hitting the refresh button on your computer.
After a hearty breakfast that must include whole hog sausage grilled over the fire, we sit some more. Coffee is run through the coffeemaker in an endless stream, as we enjoy that last of the morning. Squeezing out every moment we can of our time here in Benton. We know, soon, that our time here will come to an end for another year. The tent starts being disassembled, and much chaos and piling of blankets occurs as we remark, every year it seems, how bad the tent smells. Not even Febreze does the trick.
One last cup of coffee is poured down the hatch, when we discover there is one more cake that wasn’t eaten. Extending the time here is key. Leaving when we say we will never happens.
My aunt told us that she knows her home is meant to be a haven of peace to all who enter. I thank her, once again, for opening up her home to all of us. I thank her for having the idea of this weekend.
I look forward to next year, as I know all the kids do too, the next Annual Stutzman Labor Day Bash. ‘Til then…