Extremely Grateful Monday, following a Grateful Sunday

One of our family’s most cherished traditions is the Mother’s Day Picnic at Coloma. If you’re not up on your California history, Coloma is the place in the Sierra Nevada foothills where gold was first discovered, starting the Gold Rush of 1849. Now it’s a lovely state park next to the American River.

Brad smokes a turkey, and cooks baked beans, making our house smell like a dream. Everyone else brings salads or desserts, drinks and a chair. This year we had my sister’s family from San Diego, my brother-in-law’s mother from Chicago, my son’s in-laws from Truckee, in addition to my mom and sister’s family from Sacramento. With us coming from Reno, it was quite a group.

The kids panned for gold and joined in a rambunctious game of Apples to Apples. The adults amused themselves with a lax version of Bocci ball. In between there was plenty of time to sit and catch up.

While we were there I was overwhelmed by how fun it was to be there with everyone. But today I am more aware of the memories we are building for ourselves and our children. This day will last in the minds of all of us for all our days.