The Final Forty Joins Us. In Florida.

It was a whirlwind drive.

Florida to South Carolina Friday afternoon. (And back again in reverse Sunday afternoon.)

And my phone’s battery died about an hour into the first morning and although we certainly had access to electricity, I had forgotten my charger and, frankly, I just didn’t want to carry my phone around.

Page is a much better photographer than I am and I knew my weekend hours were very limited and I wanted to live them without the aid of King Solomon.

Which is why this post is a wee bit shy on photos and why I am letting you know that I stole some photos from Gretchen’s blog.

Gretchen is forty.

She’s an official member of our club now.

The club of Forty Year Old people.

We gathered all of our families together at Fort Wilderness, Disney’s campground, to celebrate and appreciate the life and times of our very own G.

Five adults.  Ten kids.  Those numbers aren’t too bad, really.

On a typical Keigley camping trip, no one showers.  We cook our food over an open flame.  We need flashlights because it’s really dark.  If we’re lucky, there’s a stream nearby.  We mostly use the bathroom behind a tree and we pack a shovel because we’re actually going to need it.

This was not a typical Keigley camping trip.

It was an adventure of its own kind – and it was fabulous.

I knew it would be different when we pulled up to our campsite, conveniently located by Beth and Gretchen’s campsite, and I saw twinkling Christmas lights.  And a tent larger than the trailer the three of us girls lived in in college.  (With three bedrooms.  The tent – not our trailer.)  A covering over the picnic table.  Limbs cut down and placed carefully around the tent’s edges.  A sound system.  Oh – and a disco ball.

We were living the rock star camping life for sure this weekend.

(It may have ruined us forever.)

It was a major celebration, after all.  If forty doesn’t call for music and a disco ball, I’m not sure what does.

During the morning we rode the handy dandy public bus system over to Downtown Disney.  In the afternoon we swam in one of the campground’s giant pools – pools brilliantly designed for families with kids as there was no end deeper than four feet or so.  At night we attended a camp fire sing-along with Chip and Dale and two hundred other campers and we had s’mores and watched a Disney movie on a giant screen.  We rode the golf cart over to the beach and watched the Magic Kingdom’s nightly fireworks spectacle.

Like I said – not our typical camping trip.

In fact, the only thing like our family camping outings was the fact that we didn’t shower.

Not because we couldn’t.  There was a comfort station within a short walk (but well hidden) from our disco-ball campsite.

I think it’s just because we’re lazy.

I mean – we swam in the pool two times.  It was really wet.  We all got in the hot tub late one night.  That 104 degree water just scalds the dirt right off – am I right?

I should let you know – Beth and Gretchen showered  their children.

(I’ve always been afraid that my personal hygiene standards are not up to snuff really.)

You know – I’m truly grateful/glad/pleased/thrilled that we made the journey – despite the whirlwind-like nature of it all.  I wish we had more days together.

And – can I be honest here?

I loved seeing our kids hang out and continue to know one another and build memories together.

But what reminded me that eighteen hours in a car in three days is totally worth it was the Time After.

You know what I’m talking about?

The stillness After we had settled all of the kids into their tents, After the day sounds had faded out and the night sounds had softly taken their place.

The time when the five of us (and the four of us after Kevin drifted off to sleep) sat in our comfy chairs and reminisced about the trailer days.  The time we talked about Page’s introduction to our group.  The silly stories.  The way our lives are spinning and running now.  The ideas we all have about parenting and adulthood and movies and gardening and jobs and the Bible and the government and the future.

The quiet talking night time together that is just a glimpse, a little part of our days.  But the time that reminds me that friendships that span twenty years and more are valuable beyond measure.

They’re worth more than a few nights without enough rest and worth more than a tank or three of gas and worth more than the week long preparations beforehand or the week long unpacking after the fact.

These friendships.  Made up of beautiful people who knew you When and knew you Before and knew you During.  Who know you Now and who are planning to know you Then.

People who, like you, have grown and changed and morphed and fallen and risen and will do all that growing, morphing, falling and rising again and again.

People who say, “I’ve got your back.”

That’s worth driving for.

It’s worth celebrating.

Happy fortieth Gretchen.

The Keigleys love you.