Almost Heaven (As Usual, Again)

"Why do we sing about West Virginia, Dad?"

Kid Two cheesing with his Aunt Cat

This is the question Kid One (now six, and on their sixth Mollmann Thanksgiving) asked me Friday night after the traditional Mollmann hot dog roast. I explained that the Mollmanns have been congregating in state parks for Thanksgiving for over fifty years now, and that in those old days, when it was just my grandparents and their five children, they used to go to Pipestem State Park in West Virginia. So even though we haven't gone to West Virginia since 2008 (too far for my grandmother these days), we still sing John Denver's "Country Roads." It is nothing to be proud of, but what (most of) the Mollmanns lack in musical aptitude, (some of) the Mollmanns make up for with enthusiasm... though for some reason the lyrics of the second verse continue to evade many of us. I recorded it this year, out of a sort of morbid curiosity, but I haven't yet had the courage to listen back to it.

These traditions are important, of course, they keep us who we are. Every Thanksgiving the Mollmanns congregate in a state park, we eat chili for dinner Thursday, we go hiking during the days. My own little unit of the Mollmanns has acquired its own traditions, too; I have to teach  the week of Thanskgiving but my wife doesn't, so my wife and kids fly out Saturday and spend some time with my wife's family, while I don't join them until Tuesday. It's more work for her, of course, but I think she really appreciates getting to spend that extended quality time with her mother, and the kids get a lot out of it, too.

Kid One tastes their first(ish) snowfall

Kid One can be resistant to changes in routine—I feel like last year they were particularly anti-hiking—but now I think we've done it enough that the kids recognize the annual routine themselves, and thus come to find it comforting as well. They were both enthusiastic, engaged hikers this year. I would say it was an above-average Thanksgiving for them. The last couple years, we've stayed in three or four medium-sized lodges, this year we stayed in two big ones. This meant that my immediate family stayed with a couple others, and thus my kids got to spend more time with my cousins' kids of similar ages, which was quite nice. Kid One declared another cousin their friend once they spent some time listening to Kid One's Yoto together (but could not, of course, remember her name), while Kid Two kept bossing around another kid who was two years older than him!

Most excitingly, they got to experience a snowfall! As Florida babies, their experiences with snow have been few and far between. It did snow when we were in Cleveland for Christmas in (I believe) 2021, but neither of them remember this, so it was very exciting, even though by Ohio standards we're talking a light dusting. "Is it Christmas?" Kid Two asked my wife. No, not yet, buddy.

After I explained the origins of Mollmann Thanksgiving, Kid One declared we ought to back to West Virginia. I don't know that the Mollmann clan can make this happen, probably the logistics are too complicated when Mollmann Thanksgiving has something like fifty total attendees. But tradition is important, and if I ever get the opportunity, I'd like to take my family back to where it all began, back to what they claim is "almost heaven."