OUR ONCE-SLEEPY family compound is again suddenly roused from its lazy slumber by booming karaoke in the lanai and the sound of cackling rug rats, led by a pair of twins, running about the yard. A family birthday celebration, one of the most obliquitous excuses for staging a reunion, is presently underway.
As it is, our side of the street fronting the house is already filling up with parked cars. Their passengers, family members all, alight with their food; eager for the afternoon fete that starts with a hearty lunch. And of course, there’s the round of selfies first with whoever is within range.
In the old days, when our parents were still around, family gatherings such as this were just normal weekend occasions. Things were a lot different and simpler back then. The younger generations consisted only of nieces and nephews, plus a handful of grandchildren.
While the most senior, our parents, aunts, and their friends engaged in an afternoon game of mahjong, a few among us, default titos and titans, either joined in with them or sat down instead with the younger set to down a few bottles, reminisce about their baby days, and recall funny stories.
The younger grandchildren, on the other hand, did their thing, either noisily ruling over the yard or fighting over the TV remote.
Now, great-grandchildren and a few great-greats have already added their names to the clan roster. While it’s just sad that our old folks and a number of siblings and relatives have all gone ahead to their eternal rest, we don’t talk about such things. However, we’re all in the thought that, had they still lived, it surely would have been a sight to behold how they’d have profusely doted over our latest batch of little happy feet.
As the rules of succession would have it, we titos and titas now take their place (though not necessarily their spots at the mahjong table, as it seems they brought the game with them). Nevertheless, we’re still left with great companions. Alongside us, stand our nieces and nephews, half of whom already have children of their own. Last, but definitely not least, are our parents’ great-great-grandchildren who’ve yet to make sense of this world. In all, we make up the remaining five generations they have left behind.
And so. Visiting the ancestral home once again, has somewhat become a trigger to fondly recall we’ve witnessed on this patch of family ground. The old adage that says, while all things change, they are still more or less the same, seems to best describe each precious moment our clan bolts in for any occasion. Just like the earth’s layers slowly rolling back into the sea after millions of years and fresh layers roll up to take their place, we are that, to a T.
