Last weekend our family had an unexpected family reunion. Grandma cooked a special dinner for everyone and we all managed to squeeze ourselves around the big old table.
Something about the day reminded me of all the times I've played hide-and-go-seek in my grandparent's garden, helped set the table, carry through the dirty dishes, sat on the seat-cushions which Grandma sewed herself and waited in turn to be asked what I wanted for dessert.
I'm grown up now and I have other little cousins who kneel on their chairs so they can reach their plates on the table. Grandma leans down across the table and asks them what they'd like in a Grandma-ish voice and I get asked what I'd like in a grown-up sort of way. Instead of Grandad handing me the place-mats and telling me to be careful not to drop them, I sit across the table from him discussing theology. I no longer wriggle in my seat from excitement and then rest my chin on the edge of the table while Grandma brings in her pink blancmange shaped like a rabbit. Now I take my turn at holding my newest cousin and try to stop him crying.
I am one of the grown-up grandchildren, but last weekend with everyone there, I felt just like a little girl again. Grandma had cooked a chocolate sponge pudding and made chocolate sauce to go with it - a very special treat I first tasted when I sat around Grandma's table as a little girl. As we gathered back together for dessert, I walked into the room as a grown-grandchild, with my baby cousin on my shoulder. A couple of minutes later, having given the baby to someone else, I sat eating chocolate pudding and chocolate sauce, a little girl sitting around Grandma's table.
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