Dateline: Courtyard Marriott near Indianapolis International Airport, 28 August 2004
Having spent just one night in St. Paul, Vonne, Mei and I started out Saturday on our third straight day of flying eastward. We were greatly refreshed by our one night in Minnesota, being able to participate in two extended family meals (a dinner Friday night at one sister's home and a Saturday breakfast at my other sister's home). Plus, Vonne Mei got to spend some time with her Chinese-American cousin Ally, which was a nice bond to begin between my family and my sister's.
The flight on Northwest from St. Paul to Indy was far too short and the plane far too small. I wouldn't normally complain, but it was the last taste of first-class travel for us, as the final two legs of our journey would be once again on Southwest Airlines.
And yet, it was neat that we didn't have to wait too long to reconnect with our other three children, all of whom were extremely impatient by that point to finally meet Vonne Mei, having heard so much about her and having seen so many pictures.
It was very exciting for Emily, Kevin and Jerry to finally meet their new sister, even if it was in some nondescript big-city airport. Everyone was waiting for us as we emerged from security: Emily and Jerry had come from Terre Haute with Nona and Grandad Carl; Kevin had come from the family farm in Ohio with Vonne’s oldest brother Steve, his wife and youngest daughter; and Vonne’s youngest brother Todd had come with wife and Vonne Mei’s godmother Sandi, along with two of their four kids.
As in Minnesota, welcome home signs greeted us (two this time), and cameras were a-blazin’ for quite some time. Once we had all the luggage and all the hugs had been offered, we retreated back to our common hotel and distributed some presents. Then we headed to downtown Indy for a big feast at a traditional Italian restaurant not far from the RCA Dome where the Colts were playing that night. Finally, around midnight, we got everyone to bed and another long day was done. It was really something to have the six of us all sleeping together in one room after all that time apart, and everyone kept spontaneously remarking about how great it was to be back together again. We all felt mightily blessed.
Then it finally happened for me.
Around four a.m. I woke up and glanced over the scene: our two youngest wedged between us in the queen-sized bed (both were supposed to be sleeping elsewhere, but you know how that works), while our two oldest were snoozing away in sleeping bags on the pull-out couch in the corner. And it hit me: this is now officially a big family. We have the "older kids" and the "younger kids," just like there was the Packer champion teams of 1961-62 and the gang that won in 1965-67: all somehow the same and yet both reflective of two different eras. Emily and Kevin are our "Virginia kids," born in Arlington VA, whereas Jerry and Mei will always be our "Rhode Island kids," born at a much different time in our marriage.
Did I feel overwhelmed at that point? Hardly. More like really fulfilled. Actually, even better than that, I started really feeling like my Dad in a way I never had before in my life. Having long wondered how that quiet man served as sole provider for a family of nine all those years, I felt this deep sense of connection, responsibility, and commitment.
And it felt very good.
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