The small family, the medium one and the big one

BarcelonaThe concept of family at home has become more extensive for us, and the one in charge of explaining it to me was my youngest son, who is now seven years old. Not long ago, when I proposed a whole slew of plans to do as a family on the weekend, he replied: “Okay, mom, but with whom will we do this, with the small family, the medium one, or the big one?”. Suddenly, we had three families, from the smallest to the largest, like all the objects and utensils in the three bears' home. He soon clarified his definition and who was part of each.

Aside from the nuclear family that is the father, the mother, the sister, and him, we have the small family when we go with the grandfather, the grandmother, the aunt, and the maternal cousins. The medium family makes the small one grow with all my relatives on my father's side, which right now totals 22 people including aunts and uncles, cousins, their husbands, and their children. Quite a group! And the big family is when the grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins from the children's father's side and all my family from my mother's side also come. But it is true that, in these two cases, where we live, our ages, and the distance do not allow us to meet as much as we would like.

Beyond meetings with friends, plans happen a lot with the small family. But with the big one, there are events of the year that are a true institution, such as Christmas, with a well-fed 'tió' (yule log), a Saint Stephen's Day and a New Year's Eve where there are always missing chairs and plates, and a Three Kings' Day with too much work (I admit that my children are a clear example of over-gifted children). And the summer camp with the medium family at a rural house as the final point of the summer, the most anticipated meeting for all the children.

We organize these camps because we cousins wanted to recover the family atmosphere we experienced as children during the summer holidays at the small house my paternal grandparents had in Riudecanyes, which disappeared with my grandfather's death and when we grew up. It was our paradise: a farmhouse in the middle of the forest, with few rooms and a small kitchen, but with a pond where you could spend the day soaking, a small vegetable garden and fields of hazelnut, almond and some olive trees to learn the value and biorhythms of the countryside. We all always agree that those days were synonymous with a happy childhood. Curiously, we resumed this reunion fourteen years ago, shortly after the death of my paternal grandmother and just when the first children of the new generation arrived.

Now it is our sons and daughters who, in a shorter version of days, run free through a rural tourism house, with many rooms and a large kitchen, but which becomes small when all the meals are prepared for so many people. While we young ones cook and share child-rearing, the older ones rest and tell stories to the little ones that keep the family legacy alive. But what we all enjoy the most is watching the children play in the pool or at the billiards table (interests and luxuries also change over the years).

Childhood: the most precious stage

Days before the summer camp, my children are as excited as my sister and I were before going to the little house in Riudecanyes. The space, the time, and the people have changed, it is the law of life, but the lessons, the relationships, and the feelings are the same. Living and coexisting surrounded by people who love you, take care of you, teach you, and accompany you through all stages and emotions is a right that every child must have to grow up happy.

Over time I have understood that childhood is the most precious stage, not only because you live apart from the responsibilities, worries, and distractions of adults, but because everything that happens to you, you learn, and you feel during those years turns you into the adult person you will be one day.

Any adult should keep in mind that the well-being of children comes first, beyond legal guardians or family members in charge, and the professionals who work with and for children. And if we forget that, we only need to transport ourselves, if we had one, back to our happy childhood.