It started with a canceled trip and a whole lot of disappointment.
In 2020, like many families, we had to scrap our annual summer reunion. For us, that tradition meant long drives to my parents’ house in Utah, kids running through sprinklers, and my Uncle Rob operating the grill in his never-washed “King of the Q” apron. When the pandemic hit, it felt like that thread holding us all together—those few chaotic, wonderful days—had been cut. But I’m stubborn. And I missed my people. So I decided if we couldn’t gather in person, we’d try something new: a virtual family reunion.
Three years and six reunions later (yes, six—we’ve done birthdays, holidays, and even a spontaneous “Wednesday in February” one), I can honestly say it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done for our family. And no, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. My grandfather once unplugged his modem because he thought it was “buzzing weird,” and my cousin showed up late to every call despite living in the same time zone. But the laughs, the tears, and the shared stories? Worth it.
Here’s how we made it work.
The Hunt for the Photos
If your family is anything like mine, photo organization is… well, let’s call it creative. I had pictures in OneDrive folders, random thumb drives, a shoebox of Polaroids, and a bunch of blurry images my mom texted me with no context (“Is this your dad or Uncle Barry? He’s holding a fish.”). I knew I wanted to center our reunion around a shared slideshow—something that could jog memories and spark conversations.
So I made it a mission. I called cousins, emailed aunts, and even mailed pre-labeled envelopes to my mom’s siblings so they could send me old prints. Aunt Margaret sent me an entire photo album from the 1970s with sticky pages and curling edges. My cousin Jake dug up a folder of scanned images from his dad’s Navy days. The treasure hunt became half the fun.
At first, organizing everything was a nightmare. I had files with names like “img_93832.jpeg” and duplicates everywhere. That’s when I started using Mylio Photos. I didn’t even find it through some fancy tech rec—my friend Sarah casually mentioned it during a school pickup, and I figured I’d give it a try. It’s a total game-changer.
Mylio let me organize photos by decade, event, and person—yes, it recognized faces automatically. Suddenly, I had albums like “1980s Christmas,” “Grandma and Grandpa,” and “Cousins Being Weird.” I could add little notes to photos, like “Aunt June’s perm deserves its holiday” or “Mom’s infamous pool party.” The best part? Everyone could upload their pictures to the same library, even my tech-wary uncle who still uses AOL.
Helping Everyone Connect (Literally)
Now, if you’ve ever tried to get 25 relatives on the same video call, you know the real challenge isn’t scheduling—it’s tech support. Before our first reunion, I ran a mini “boot camp.” I made a basic how-to PDF (“Step 1: Open your laptop. Step 2: Plug it in if it’s dead.”) and hosted 15-minute test calls with each family branch. There were a few rough patches—Grandpa kept aiming his webcam at the ceiling fan—but we were ready by the day of the reunion.
One tip: appoint a “tech helper” in every family pod. My cousin Rachel became the go-to for her parents, and my 11-year-old handled things on our end like a tiny IT manager.
We used Zoom with breakout rooms—one for “the cousins,” another for the older generation to catch up, and even a “kids only” room where the younger ones could play games or show off their LEGO builds.
Breaking Bread Across State Lines
One of my favorite touches? The food. A week before the reunion, I emailed everyone a “Reunion Menu” with family recipes we could all make at home. We kept it simple: Grandma’s potato salad, Uncle Rob’s barbecue rub (finally written down after years of secrecy), and Aunt Lily’s cherry dump cake. The idea was that even though we were apart, we’d still be eating the same food, made with the same memories.
I’ll never forget my Aunt Margaret’s look when we pulled up a photo of her childhood home, and she choked up over her plate of deviled eggs. Or the hilarious chaos when we tried to coordinate a simultaneous toast and half the family lagged by five seconds. Real-time? Not quite. Real connection? Absolutely.
The Moments That Stick
There’s something about seeing your family react to memories in real-time that hits differently.
One of the most powerful moments was during our second reunion, when I shared a slideshow I’d made in Mylio Photos of my dad, who passed away in 2017. The slideshow spanned from his high school football photos to goofy selfies with the grandkids. Watching everyone’s reactions—my mom tearing up, my brother laughing at Dad’s mullet—reminded me why this mattered. It wasn’t just about staying in touch. It was about honoring our shared history.
Eventually, I upgraded to the Mylio Family Plan to create a shared family library with five other households. Now, whenever someone shares new photos, we add them to the same Mylio library. It’s become a living, growing archive of our family. We don’t share everything—we each have private collections—but we’ve curated a joint history folder that everyone can access. It’s where we keep the gold: baby pictures, wedding photos, stories from the old country. It’s like our digital attic, but way less dusty.
Final Thoughts (And a Nudge to Try It Yourself)
Virtual family reunions aren’t a replacement for the real thing, but they’re something. Something meaningful, heartfelt, and often hilarious. They’ve helped my kids feel connected to relatives they barely knew before. They’ve brought us closer, reminded us who we are, and made distance less daunting.
If you’re thinking of trying one, just start. You don’t need to overplan. Pick a date, take photos, maybe share a recipe or two. Use a tool like Mylio Photos to help keep things organized (trust me—it saved me hours). And give yourself grace. There will be tech hiccups, someone will forget to unmute, and a dog will bark during a heartfelt story.
But you’ll laugh. You’ll cry. And you’ll walk away feeling like your family just got a bit closer, without anyone having to drive six hours or clean their guest room.
And honestly? That’s kind of amazing.
