Like all good gatherings, it revolved around food; so we arrived laden with tasty morsels, ready to reminisce and weave our tales over the debris of a drawn out meal.
There is a warm sense of comfort in stepping through a familiar threshold to be enfolded in the hustle and bustle of three generations reconnecting after time apart. The flurry of hugs, greetings and gentle ribbing, tightening the ties that bind us together once more.
Like every family, we soon fell into our pre-ordained groupings, honed over years of shared events. Our not so small sons, delighted to have cousins to play with, caused gentle mischief before settling down to bragging rights and an old box of Lego. Whilst the eldest, now tall men towering above us all, yet still retaining,with impish grins and tales of risky exploits, some small trace of the small boys they once were; conversed with an ease that comes with youth....
...and we, the older generations, sat side by side; balancing plates and memories; weaving tales of photo line ups, childhood mishaps and mayhem; finding the natural rhythm of conversation and comfortable closeness which served to remind us why it is we should all meet more often.
These are days to cherish; touched as we have been by a slow fear of dark shadows on light boxes. Our ties that bind may fray a little and stretch with age and distance, but these twisted strands of shared experience and DNA will hold us together, always.