Reconnecting with la familia Flores

My mom, Theresa, and sisters Cathy (left) and Rosemary

Three weekends ago I flew down to the Bay Area, stayed overnight at my mom's, then drove her and myself down to the sleepy little agricultural town of Gonzales, California. The occasion? The first-ever Flores Family Reunion.

Don't know why it took so long for the Flores family to come together, considering that my dad's side of the family has been meeting annually for 33 years. That it did, and that it came off so well, is a tribute to my niece Bernie and cousin Lisa, who did most of the planning. (I'm cringing as I write that sentence, not wishing to overlook anyone's contribution.)

I didn't plan to write about the reunion immediately, knowing I'd dive back into work and a busy social calendar this month. But with July just about ready to give way to August, it's time to get down to business.

My Aunt Lupe

First, the details.
The reunion was held on Saturday, July 9, at the American Legion Hall, home of Post 81. We had a catered lunch/dinner featuring Mexican food, of course, and played table games and a little bit of music. We took plenty of photographs and mostly just hung out. The event continued with a Sunday Mass and everyone said their goodbyes in the church parking lot.

So, who was there?
Approximately 75 people, more than I anticipated. Most were from California and many of those live within 30 minutes of Gonzales, which is in Monterey County, about 50 miles south of San Jose. There were three of the original nine Flores siblings -- my mom, one aunt, one uncle -- both of my sisters, lots of cousins, plenty of spouses and significant others, and several grandchildren.

Who came the farthest?
My younger sister Cathy flew in from Alaska, my cousin Julie from Chicago and I came down from Portland, as noted. Each of us got a prize..

Cousin Lisa

So, what were the highlights?
It was nice to see my godmother, Lupe, the oldest of the nine siblings at age 88, and my uncle Junior (named after the family patriarch, Julian), the only surviving brother. I looked forward to meeting Bernie's husband, Terrell (as I couldn't attend their wedding a few years ago), and I was not disappointed. He's quieter than I imagined (though I'm told he can get crazy like anyone else) and a real gentleman. Plus, being together with both my sisters was a rare treat. My older sister, Rosemary, lives near San Diego, so we're really spread out along the West Coast.

Any surprises?
Honestly, no. Well, yes. Until I reviewed the details of a family tree that was assembled for the occasion, I didn't realize that my cousin Bobby had produced children, starting at age 14, with four different women, some married and some not. More than one person noted, tongue in cheek, that he could have had his own family reunion.

Niece Bernie and husband Terrell

Any disappointments?
One, that we couldn't have done this sooner. Though three siblings attended, a fourth one, my Aunt Toni, was unable to be there because of health issues. Sadder still, three aunts and two uncles have already passed away. One set of four cousins was entirely unrepresented. Two, that Lori couldn't have been with me. As we considered our summer schedule and household budget, we agreed it made sense for just me to attend. As things turned out, Lori wound up visiting our daughter Simone at the same time in Pittsburgh. If another reunion is held, I would hope the two of us could both attend.

Best thing about the reunion?
Just being around family again. Living in Oregon for 35 (make that 36) years has meant infrequent trips to California, where most of our relatives on both sides live. Getting enough time (it's a two-day car trip each way) and coming up with enough money (hard to do when you have three children) to pay for it all isn't easy.

Being there solo meant I could spend as much time as I liked with everyone, renewing relationships and catching up on family. It also meant I could match names and faces with younger cousins (some of whom, I realized, are 20 years or so younger than me), as well as my older cousins' children and grandchildren and their spouses.

Cousin Ralph, my "twin"

Anything else?
There was a poignant moment when my mom and I were driving down U.S. 101, past the agricultural fields at the north end of the Salinas Valley, a 90-mile stretch that's known as "America's salad bowl." From the passenger's seat, she pointed out the window to where she and her sisters picked strawberries, lettuce and other crops as young girls. She'll be 84 this fall. We've had our ups and downs, like so many other parent-child relationships, but I will never stop admiring how far she and my dad (remarried and living in New Mexico) have come despite never attending high school, and appreciating all they did to give my sisters and me greater opportunities than they had.

Final thoughts?
Sharing a common heritage -- Mexican and proud of it -- and being in a roomful of people who accept you and embrace you without judgment are two wonderful things. I don't take either for granted. At times, I wish I lived closer to many of my relatives. At the same time, I can't say I would change any of the big life decisions which brought me north and have kept me here. California has its attractions, but Oregon is the place where Lori and I have raised our family and sunk our roots.

Que viva la familia Flores!