Not a movie or series, as usual, but tonight I’m watching a family gathering. Around 30 members of the Mrs.’s family (by no means the entire family), four generations, from age 90 to 3, in one room sharing a meal.
I’m the only outsider. They are speaking animatedly in their native language, of which I understand a little, and can speak just enough to be nice to people. A few of the younger ones, or those who went to university, can speak some English.
It’s quite a sight to behold, but also a bit overwhelming for me, having grown up in a nuclear family. The largest family gathering I can recall was maybe a dozen, and those dwindled down to half as elders passed.
Nothing earth shattering, just people enjoying a meal and talking. One of the nieces took a fascination with my travel guitar last time I was here, so gifted her a ukulele. Some of the young men are repairing a laptop, the Mrs. catching up with her brothers and sisters. A nephew introducing his new bride, students playing tablet games, etc. And sitting in our midst, beholding it all, “Big Momma” beaming just like my grandma in our modest gatherings.
