The Family of My Heart

Reflections on a Family Reunion   My last name is Brooks, but in my heart, I am a MacKenney.   I recently spent a long, four-day weekend in Mattapoisett, Massachusetts with my mother’s side of the family, something I’ve not had the opportunity to do for way too many years. My cousin Kara and her husband Scott have organized a couple of family gatherings at their seaside home in recent years, bringing the MacKenney clan back together for fellowship, feasting and fond memories. I’ve not been able to make these until this year, when I determined I would no longer let work demands dictate my calendar. I’m so glad I did, and I doubt I’ll ever miss another one.   My mother grew up as a MacKenney in Medfield, Mass., the middle of three siblings, with an older brother named Larry and a younger brother named Bobby. Back in the early to mid 1900s, this was a small country town west of Boston, and the MacKenney kids grew up down the end of a long, winding, barely paved road along the Charles River. Summers were spent outside the town of Falmouth on Cape Cod, in a small cottage my grandfather owned. It was out there that my mother met a dark haired, dark eyed, wild city boy named Terry, whose family also spent summers at the Cape. They fell in love and eventually married, and my mother exchanged her MacKenney name for Brooks.   My father soon learned, as he once recounted to me, that he didn’t just marry a girl named Nancy, he married into a loving, loyal family of deep Scottish heritage. He quickly came to deeply love this family he had married into, in some ways more than his own birth family. There are rich Scottish roots on my mother’s side, and they are a warm, welcoming clan. My father’s heart found a second home among the MacKenneys.   A MacKenney reunion, circa 1981 or 82.   Born from MacKenzie and Davidson roots, MacKenney reunions on my mother’s side, in memories of my childhood, were always filled with laughter, hugs, games, and lots of food. And they were always held outside, in an expansive backyard under towering oak and willow trees overlooking the Charles River, or by the waters of Hamblin Pond, a small bay near Falmouth Harbor on the Cape.    I have memories of extended family at those reunions, great uncles and aunts, 2nd–3rd cousins I don’t remember all that well. Yet I vividly recall times with the immediate MacKenney family- my grandparents, my Uncle Larry and Aunt Judy, Uncle Bobby and Aunt Marion, and my small but tight knit group of cousins, Lauren, Kara, Lisa, and Scotty. With us three Brooks boys, the seven cousins grew up very close, and I loved my uncles and aunts dearly, cherishing every moment with my MacKenney family, year after year.   Time and age eventually saw us all go our separate ways over the years, pursuing our own paths, starting our own families. Sadly, in the years that followed, we met together less frequently, and seemed to meet up most often for funerals. Both grandparents passed on in the 1990s, and we all gathered for those occasions, drifting back to our own lives and families soon after. Then my father died in 2021, my Aunt Marion a couple of years later, and several of us cousins decided it was time to start getting the family back together, rather than waiting for the next funeral. The three original MacKenney siblings were still alive, all of us cousins were still alive and well, so it was time to jumpstart the old reunions again.   Our 2024 trip to Cape Cod, with my grandson, at the beach I grew splashing around in as a child.   The first one was held in June 2024, yet because of a prior commitment to an overseas mission trip, I was regretfully unable to attend. I did have the opportunity to bring my family up to visit with a few cousins in September of last year, on my birthday. We enjoyed several days with Kara and Scott, my cousin Michelle on my father‘s side, and a surprise visit from Lisa, Uncle Bobby’s daughter, and her husband Dan. I had not seen Lisa since grandparent funerals in the 1990s. It was also the first time I returned to Hamblin Pond, where both sides of the family had cottages for generations. I stepped into the soft sand and cold salty water that I had splashed around in as a child, for the first time in nearly half a century. Holding my little grandson Brooks while standing in those waters was a deeply moving moment for me.   Plans were already being discussed for a reunion in 2025, and I determined I would not miss that if at all humanly possible. And I did not. My own family would not be able to accompany me this time, but once in the new year, I booked my tickets and made my plans. I blocked out four days, a long weekend, to spend with the Mac family, and arrived Friday evening in time for an outdoor feast. Nearly everyone was present this year, the only exception being Lauren, Uncle Larry’s oldest daughter, whose husband is battling stage four cancer.   MacKenney Reunion, 2025. Uncles & aunts, cousins & loved ones. A house of love.   We spent the long weekend feasting on incredible seafood, laughing at funny stories from our MacKenney history, even celebrating anniversaries and new beginnings for several in the family. The years and the miles just melted away between us all, and it felt like the fun outdoor reunions I remember from my youth. I learned things and heard new stories from Larry, Bobby and my mom’s younger years that I’d never known before, and came to love them and my cousins even more. It was a glorious time by the sea.   I know many who dread family reunions, for all kinds of reasons. But this one brought me such joy, like the MacKenney reunions of old, that I about grieved its ending Sunday night and Monday, as everyone filtered back to their respective homes and lives. I was the last one to leave, with a late flight out of Providence, RI Monday evening, so I got to spend a few more hours lingering by the beach before heading to the airport. I reflected on the deep love that this side of my family has for each other, the loved ones that have been grafted in being embraced so fully as well, and how important these times are that we carve out to spend together. None of us are getting any younger, we’ve already said goodbye to two loved ones (my father and Aunt Marion), and all three MacKenney siblings are now in their 80s. Time is getting short, and getting more precious.   I dearly love these people, every one of them. My last name is Brooks, but in my heart, I am a MacKenney.   Rob   The view from Kara & Scott’s back deck, overlooking Mattapoisett Harbor, Cape Cod beyond.