A Family Party

I went to a family party over the weekend. Not a small, smelly little family party. A big, proper family party. The kind with my cousins. Their partners. Their children. My parent’s cousins. My auntie’s cousins daughter. The whole shebang.

There were 20 people (I think), most of whom I haven’t seen since the last wedding/funeral. It was great. Food, drink. Catching up.

I used to be in bands with my cousins and we had a drum set and a guitar set up and got to have a little jam and that was so much fun. I couldn’t play guitar any more (which is pretty upsetting) - my fingers remembered some of it, but if I had to actually think about what I was playing, I was lost. My six year old was shocked and wanted to know how I knew how to play guitar and how I was so good…I didn’t have the heart to explain to him that I’d just let myself down. One of today’s jobs…getting the guitar out of the loft and getting back into it!

Aside from all of that shared history (at least 3 years of band practices every weekend, and least 5 years of shared meals at grandma’s house every Wednesday), it was beautiful to be able to point my kids to all the people around them and tell them they have family. Big family. Proper family.

I remember going to a family party as a kid (somewhere between 6 and 9 years old) and being told to look around, and that everybody here was related to me. I found it mad, and often thought back to it. I hope my kids do the same. It’s important to know that there’s a bigger unit, and that there are people around who don’t know you but who still have your back. People who have never (or rarely) met you who are at least partially invested in your success.

It’s all part of life’s rich tapestry. And now I need to go off and get my guitar so I can be useful and next year’s big family gathering (in the hope they become semi-regular things!)