Every August, we make the pilgrimage to Chris’s sister Cindy and her husband Steve’s lakefront property on beautiful Portage Lakes, Ohio, for our annual family campout. This year had an extra sparkle, as we kicked things off with a mingle hour in honor of Christian and Claire’s wedding last March in Hereford, England. For the family who couldn’t make the overseas trip, it was a wonderful chance to celebrate the happy couple right here at home. The living room was buzzing with conversation, clinking glasses, and a swirl of stories old and new. It felt like a family reunion wrapped in a wedding reception, the kind of evening where laughter bounces off the walls and time slips by unnoticed.
One of the sweetest moments came when Chris and her 93-year-old mother, Loretta, settled in for a quiet afternoon of painting together. Chris worked on a mystical horse with swirling blues and golds, while Loretta brought Jasper, her black cat, to life on the canvas with a twinkle in her eye. The scene was a warm reminder that creativity runs in the family and that shared passions keep generations connected. Service Dog Charlie provided comic relief, managing to get his snoot stuck in a cup while trying to sneak the last bit of a thick milkshake. Judging by his sheepish look, he learned that not all treats are worth the trouble—though the laughter he inspired was worth every second.
The weekend’s festivities rolled right into a milestone celebration: our nephew Luciano’s high school graduation party. The yard was alive with chatter, music, and the irresistible scent of grilled food. Carlo, his proud father, gave a heartfelt speech while Luciano stood beside his mother, Cathy, both beaming with pride. It was one of those moments you want to bottle—a young man ready to take on the world, surrounded by people who love him. Between the poolside conversations, catching up with our sons Todd and Ty, and hearing the latest adventures from our grandsons Brandon and Jaxson, the day felt like a living scrapbook of family milestones.
Of course, no campout at Portage Lakes would be complete without our traditional bonfire—though Steve prefers the term “campfire” to “blaze visible from space.” As the sun dipped below the trees, everyone gathered in a wide circle around the flames. RVs glowed softly in the background, and the fire’s warmth mingled with the late-summer air. Conversations lingered, marshmallows toasted, and stories stretched late into the night. The fire crackled like it knew it was the heart of our gathering, holding us together in its glow. In the end, it wasn’t just about the lake, the parties, or even the milestones—it was about the joy of simply being together, year after year, making memories that will keep us warm long after the embers fade.
