There was another important reason for visiting my aunty while I was back in Britain.

Family.

Living on the other side of the world means that family gatherings are rather few and far between. Birthdays, Christmases, celebrations and all those ordinary occasions when everyone gets together tend to happen without me.

Not because anyone has forgotten me, of course. It’s simply what happens when you live in New Zealand and everybody else is thousands of miles away.

So this visit was a lovely opportunity to catch up.

And perhaps, although nobody really wanted to say it, it might be the last time we were all together like this.

You never know, do you?

Christmas Came Early

Two of my cousins came over to my aunty’s for lunch.

And what a lunch!

It was rather like Christmas dinner, only without the Christmas tree, the crackers or somebody falling asleep in front of the television afterwards.

A proper family get-together, with plenty of food, conversation and catching up.

The lovely thing about family is that you can go years without seeing one another and still find plenty to talk about.

There are always stories to revisit, people to ask about and memories that somebody inevitably remembers rather differently from everybody else.

And, of course, the occasional bit of family gossip.

It wouldn’t be a proper gathering without that.

It was just so nice to sit around together and enjoy being in the same room for a change.

Rather than appearing as a little face on somebody’s phone screen.

A House Straight Out of Country Living

After lunch, we headed over to another cousin’s house.

And what a house!

Honestly, it looked as though somebody had lifted it straight from the pages of Country Living magazine.

You know the sort of place.

Everything beautifully arranged, coordinated and looking effortlessly stylish.

The sort of house where you suspect even the cushions have been to finishing school.

I looked around admiringly.

My own house tends to feature a rather different interior design philosophy.

It’s called Three Dogs Live Here.

The furnishings are arranged according to whichever dog has claimed them, and the occasional muddy paw print adds what I like to think of as rustic character.

But this house was gorgeous.

And, as it turned out, there was a reason we had all been gathered there.

Something had been planned.

Something nobody had thought to warn me about.

The Family Photograph.

Operation Family Portrait

Now, I don’t know whether you’ve ever attempted to organise a large family photograph.

If you have, you’ll understand that it’s not really a photographic exercise.

It’s a military operation.

Apparently, my cousins had decided that, with me visiting from New Zealand and everyone together, this was the perfect opportunity to capture the family for posterity.

A lovely idea.

In theory.

First, we needed a suitable location.

Not just anywhere, obviously.

We were in a house that looked like a magazine spread. We couldn’t simply stand in front of the fridge.

There had to be a background.

A proper background.

Something tasteful.

Something that said, “Here is a lovely, respectable family enjoying a rare moment together.”

Once the location had been agreed upon, the positioning began.

People were allocated places.

Some at the back.

Some at the front.

Tall people had to move.

Short people had to be visible.

Somebody was standing in front of somebody else.

Somebody needed to move slightly to the left.

No, not that far.

Back a bit.

Your other left.

It was rather like trying to arrange a collection of garden gnomes who had all developed opinions about where they wanted to stand.

Eventually, everyone was in position.

Or so we thought.

Smile! No, Not Like That!

Then came the photographs.

Now, you’d imagine that once everybody had been arranged, the difficult part would be over.

Not a chance.

Getting a family to look at the camera at the same time is apparently one of the great unsolved challenges of modern photography.

There’s always somebody blinking.

Somebody looking at the wrong person.

Somebody laughing.

Somebody deciding that this precise moment is the ideal opportunity to adjust their clothing.

And somebody who looks perfectly normal in every other photograph but has somehow managed to adopt the expression of a startled haddock.

Click.

Another attempt.

Click.

“Right, everybody smile!”

Click.

“One more!”

There’s never just one more.

There are approximately seventeen more.

By this point, you’re no longer smiling because you’re happy.

You’re smiling because your facial muscles have seized into position and you’re hoping somebody will eventually release you.

And then, finally, we had it.

The photograph.

The one that was supposed to capture this lovely family gathering.

Everybody together.

A moment to treasure.

We gathered to inspect the results.

And I burst out laughing.

Straight Outta Middlesex

Because there, in what was possibly the best photograph of the afternoon, were the children.

All beautifully positioned.

All looking at the camera.

And all apparently auditioning for a rap group.

Honestly!

The poses!

The hand signals!

The expressions!

Forget the traditional family portrait.

We had somehow produced the cover of a hip-hop album.

Straight Outta Middlesex.

I half expected somebody to announce their debut single.

The adults were doing their best to look like a respectable family.

Meanwhile, the younger generation had apparently decided they were representing the streets.

I couldn’t stop laughing.

And actually, the more I looked at it, the more I liked it.

Because that photograph probably captured us far better than any perfectly arranged, beautifully coordinated family portrait ever could.

There we all were.

Different generations.

Different personalities.

Different ideas about what constitutes an appropriate photographic pose.

All together in one picture.

A Photograph Worth Keeping

When you live so far away, it’s easy to forget how much these ordinary family moments matter.

A lunch.

A visit.

A bit of laughter.

Everybody squeezed together for a photograph.

Nothing particularly extraordinary.

Except, of course, that it is.

Because the years go by, people get older, families change and opportunities to gather become fewer.

I don’t know when I’ll see everyone again.

And I don’t know whether we’ll ever have another afternoon quite like this one.

But I’m very glad we did.

And I’m glad somebody thought to organise that photograph.

Even if it did involve a considerable amount of rearranging, several failed attempts and the unexpected emergence of a Middlesex rap collective.

One day, we’ll look back at that picture and remember the afternoon.

The lovely lunch.

The beautiful house.

The laughter.

And everyone being together.

Although I suspect the children will have some explaining to do about those hand signals.