The best gift is a memory.

Recently, I was given a gift that made me happier than any other this year. And the last couple of years have been filled with gifts as my family has grown and thrived. There have been weddings, engagements, great-grandbabies, and puppies, beyond my dreams! But for my birthday this new year 2026, my children gave me an experience I will not forget. They all agreed to attend a black-tie, kilted gala for Bobby Burns Night as my guests. A table of ten, all my family, is no small accomplishment.

The English Speaking Union (Charlottesville Branch ESU) hosted this festive event at the Glenmore Country Club to celebrate the great poet Robert Burns. There was a piper, of course, who piped in “The Haggis.” I actually enjoy this dish and ate two helpings, since Chris left his uneaten.

All of my sons own kilts. I believe they actually enjoy dressing up in their outfits. That dirk in the sock is an added incentive for getting it all together. Did one of them really have a flask in his sporran? The girls were absolutely resplendent in a version of Matheson plaid or Buchanan with skirts, scarves, or a bodice in a plaid of either side of the family. They are beautiful to begin with, but they were especially fetching in plaid.

Watching my children, now grown into responsible adults, having fun together warms my heart. They are all so different. They believe different things and have different temperaments. Yet, all of them together share so much in common. Their memories often differ, each having experienced the same event in different ways. Yet, they laugh and joke and exude happiness when they are together.

It sounds like bragging, because I guess it is. I am so proud of them for being such nice human beings. I am so aware of how lucky I am as a Mom. Both their father, Charley, and I are confident that they had a great start in life and a truly happy childhood. Our memories are full of fun and hilarious scenarios. Plus, we had such great adventures together. Our animal stories are legendary: raising horses, cattle, and sundry animals. Many years were spent raising puppies, which I am now re-experiencing with my son, Robert. He has a litter of 7 dachshund puppies living here. 5 of them are still available, if anyone is interested. They are ready to go.

Our horse life was rich and memorable. We remember all those ponies someone once gave us, and only a couple could be ridden. We discovered that one of them had been pregnant, because when we went out one morning, there was a fresh foal in the field. Not knowing which pony was the mother, I foolishly put the foal in a stall with a mare who was standing by her, keeping the others away.  I had the sense to call a vet who came quickly and informed me that I had put the foal with the wrong mare. The “first-time mother” had not known what was expected, and the older experienced pony had tried to take her foal. Well, except for my embarrassment, this had a nice ending with mare and foal reunited happily.

The parties we had for our children began when they were tiny. They continued all through their childhoods, and now they give their own. My father once provided an extravaganza at my parents’ house in Newport. There was a merry-go-round to ride on and an actor dressed as Batman. Servants passed goodies and soft drinks to the bemused children who sat at round tables covered with colorful tablecloths. Each table was complete with ballroom chairs placed around it on the large grassy lawn. The parents gawked at the goings-on, but everyone agreed it was “quite a party”.  That was before we had our 4th and 5 th children. They missed that one. It is ironic that, as a young adult, Robert held an iconic lobster party at Beaulieu every year at the end of August. He has my father’s flair.

One year, in March, we took our 2 youngest (ages 11 and 12) to Europe to join our daughters, who were both in college there. Our older son, Charley, 22, was about to return to college in Boston, so he was not included on this trip. I will never forget seeing our 2 young sons, our older one, and some friends playing on motorcycles and on some sort of 4-wheel thing (an Odyssey ?) with a motor. They were driving all over, up and down, out in the fields behind our house. This was the day before we were to leave for Europe, and I was too busy packing and getting ready to worry. Suddenly, I looked out of the window, and everyone was still. They were all standing around a body on the ground. At first, I could not see who was injured. Then they got the wounded one to his feet, and I saw that it was not one of the young ones we were taking on the trip. Instead, it was poor Charley jr. who had a broken collarbone. He was meant to fly back to Boston in the morning. And he did. In retrospect, I have no idea how he managed.

That trip to Europe was fantastic. Big Charley insisted that we travel with one duffel bag each. He wanted the boys to be able to carry their own bags. At first, I thought that would be impossible, especially for me. But it turned out to be one of our best trips ever because of traveling so light. I still remember exactly what I took on that trip. One tweed suit with a slightly full skirt, one bright blue silk shirtdress. Two turtleneck blouses, one deep turquoise and one purple, some scarves, a night gown, and underwear.  It worked! In some cold British bed and breakfasts, I wore the silk dress beneath the suit. Those clothes were perfect for our March trip to the UK, France, and Italy by way of The Orient Express. What a trip!

One memorable summer, we took the children to Disneyland and all over California. We had all 5 of them with us, and when we left, my husband had a horrible case of the flu and was sick as a dog. His parents came to see us off the night before, and they said, “You cannot possibly travel in this condition!” But he did. One of our California friends told us to add pineapple to every meal. So we went to a market and bought a couple of fresh pineapples, and it was miraculous. He truly got better fast.

There was the summer that we sent Murdoch to camp in Maine. When we arrived at our rental house in Newport that summer, there were six letters from him waiting for us. Each one told how injured he was from a motorcycle “burn” he got on his leg before he left home. He said it was getting worse and worse, and he needed a real doctor. Frantic, I called the camp, only to find out he was perfectly fine and enjoying himself. He had written that series of letters all on the same day, making his injury sound increasingly serious and painful with each letter. I guess he thought that was funny…

Helen and Lilla were our riders in those earlier days, and we are pleased that they both foxhunt still. They are beautiful riders. However, the one who takes it most seriously now is Murdoch as MFH. Charley no longer rides, but I have handsome photos of him in the saddle, and he is still movie-star handsome, especially in his kilt.

Did you forget about the point of this message? Kilts! It is such fun for me to recount. I want to tell the world how pleased I am to have that memory to cherish.  I sat between my sons-in-law at the dinner, one of whom was also in a kilt. They are both very dear to me. My lovely daughters-in-law sat across from me, beautiful in Matheson plaid, along with their husbands. I have been extremely lucky with my children and my in-laws. I am grateful.

I wish you happy memories as well.

Copyright©. 2026 Bonnie B. Matheson