Looking for family, looking for tribe
In the early days of the twentieth century, a gentleman named Charlie (unusually, for the time, he really was christened Charlie, not Charles) got married. He married Emily and they lived normally ever after. They had five children and, though Charlie died relatively young, Emily lived to her mid-nineties.
Which is how come I can just remember her, as a very old lady, sitting in her rocking chair in her house in Huntingdon. She was my great-grandmother, and her son Ernest (whom she outlived) was my grandfather. Over the last ten years, the other four children, my great aunts and uncles, have all passed away. At each of the funerals, those present have come to a conclusion: firstly, that they all get on really quite well and secondly, that they only really see each other at funerals.
My mother, her brother, and their eight cousins played together as children but these days are geographically disparate. Their offspring - and, now, their offspring's offspring - have in many cases not met. Ilona took drastic action, and organised a Nobody's Dead party in the rather lovely Barton Seagrave, near Kettering, last weekend.
As each new person drifted through the door, you could see them looking around anxiously: were they in the right place, could they find someone they recognised? Meanwhile, everyone else looked back at them, trying to work out who they looked like. I closely resemble exspelunca, so am immediately identifiable as her daughter. Despite having only met him once, around 25 years ago, I confidently spotted a second cousin[*] on account of his resemblance to his dad. Of course, this method has its failures too: several people commented on Carolyn's likeness to aunty Norah, when she's no relation at all (in fact, she's married to Norah's son... ;)
Ilona had airily promised that the local contingent would sort out refreshments, which turned out to be a two-course buffet of impressive dimensions, with buckets of tea and champagne for afters. By which time I had lost track and done the only sensible thing: filched a pen from ChrisC, unfolded a napkin, and drawn out a family tree in an attempt to work out who everyone was. Hailing people as they passed and demanding they told me where I should draw them in worked surprisingly well. Several people requested a copy, actually - our family genealogy hobbyist appears to have done plenty of going back, but not mapped out the here and now.
This gathering - timed to coincide with some of the further-flung members of the family being in the UK - fell coincidentally on my birthday. Ilona had brought me a most unexpected present, which she gave me commenting that I should have it since I was the "only one qualified". It turned out to be a reddish-gold locket, heart-shaped, which belonged to my great grandma and contains a photo of Charlie as a young man. It's engraved with an E and it seems that in the three current generations I am the only person with the initial E.
I could imagine Charlie and Emily surveying their huge mob of descendants proudly. The only slightly sad note is that there are now only two people left bearing Charlie's surname[**], one whose daughters have married and taken their husband's names, and one who remains a batchelor.
As someone who always thinks of themselves as coming from a fairly small family, being in a room full of upwards of fifty relatives is a strange experience. And on casual acquaintance, they all seem like jolly nice people. I have second-cousins-once-removed from Alfie to Zara, and first-cousins-once-removed I'd happily chat to in the pub. One of my second cousins is training to be a tour guide at Burleigh House, her dad is refurbishing a holiday complex in Spain, his brother turns out to be another frequenter of folk-clubs... None of the horrors of family gatherings came up, everyone appeared to be speaking to everyone else, no one appeared to have said something memorably awful at someone's wedding...
In fact, it was a thoroughly pleasant afternoon. It turns out I like my family.
[*] Cousin terminology always confuses me. Ian's dad and my mum are first cousins; I reckon that makes me and him second cousins. YMMV.
[**] Which I am being coy about, because it's my mother's maiden name, and thus a favourite security question everywhere ;)
Which is how come I can just remember her, as a very old lady, sitting in her rocking chair in her house in Huntingdon. She was my great-grandmother, and her son Ernest (whom she outlived) was my grandfather. Over the last ten years, the other four children, my great aunts and uncles, have all passed away. At each of the funerals, those present have come to a conclusion: firstly, that they all get on really quite well and secondly, that they only really see each other at funerals.
My mother, her brother, and their eight cousins played together as children but these days are geographically disparate. Their offspring - and, now, their offspring's offspring - have in many cases not met. Ilona took drastic action, and organised a Nobody's Dead party in the rather lovely Barton Seagrave, near Kettering, last weekend.
As each new person drifted through the door, you could see them looking around anxiously: were they in the right place, could they find someone they recognised? Meanwhile, everyone else looked back at them, trying to work out who they looked like. I closely resemble exspelunca, so am immediately identifiable as her daughter. Despite having only met him once, around 25 years ago, I confidently spotted a second cousin[*] on account of his resemblance to his dad. Of course, this method has its failures too: several people commented on Carolyn's likeness to aunty Norah, when she's no relation at all (in fact, she's married to Norah's son... ;)
Ilona had airily promised that the local contingent would sort out refreshments, which turned out to be a two-course buffet of impressive dimensions, with buckets of tea and champagne for afters. By which time I had lost track and done the only sensible thing: filched a pen from ChrisC, unfolded a napkin, and drawn out a family tree in an attempt to work out who everyone was. Hailing people as they passed and demanding they told me where I should draw them in worked surprisingly well. Several people requested a copy, actually - our family genealogy hobbyist appears to have done plenty of going back, but not mapped out the here and now.
This gathering - timed to coincide with some of the further-flung members of the family being in the UK - fell coincidentally on my birthday. Ilona had brought me a most unexpected present, which she gave me commenting that I should have it since I was the "only one qualified". It turned out to be a reddish-gold locket, heart-shaped, which belonged to my great grandma and contains a photo of Charlie as a young man. It's engraved with an E and it seems that in the three current generations I am the only person with the initial E.
I could imagine Charlie and Emily surveying their huge mob of descendants proudly. The only slightly sad note is that there are now only two people left bearing Charlie's surname[**], one whose daughters have married and taken their husband's names, and one who remains a batchelor.
As someone who always thinks of themselves as coming from a fairly small family, being in a room full of upwards of fifty relatives is a strange experience. And on casual acquaintance, they all seem like jolly nice people. I have second-cousins-once-removed from Alfie to Zara, and first-cousins-once-removed I'd happily chat to in the pub. One of my second cousins is training to be a tour guide at Burleigh House, her dad is refurbishing a holiday complex in Spain, his brother turns out to be another frequenter of folk-clubs... None of the horrors of family gatherings came up, everyone appeared to be speaking to everyone else, no one appeared to have said something memorably awful at someone's wedding...
In fact, it was a thoroughly pleasant afternoon. It turns out I like my family.
[*] Cousin terminology always confuses me. Ian's dad and my mum are first cousins; I reckon that makes me and him second cousins. YMMV.
[**] Which I am being coy about, because it's my mother's maiden name, and thus a favourite security question everywhere ;)