Multiplication

I went to see my Grandma yesterday. She enjoys spending time in her "happy places" - those bits of her memory where she feels secure and able to talk freely - so a lot of our conversation covers her childhood and her family and friends as she was growing up. However, there was a moment yesterday where she seemed to have a moment of complete clarity. She looked at me and said, "Just imagine. Your Grandpa and I started as just two people. And look at what grew from there!"

Three daughters, three sons-in-law; six grandchildren and now six grandchildren-in-law; and, at the last count, eight great-grandchildren. Even taking into account the fact that my Grandpa is no longer around, that is a family of 27 grown from one wonderful, loving marriage. That is their legacy of love and experience.

And it's not just about family. I have been feeling that way about long-lasting friendships recently. I have been trying to catch up with old friends here and there over the summer and in a week, my old housemates from university will be meeting up with our broods. I know I will look in wonder, as I always do, at our children playing together and enjoying the banter and silliness that exists between old friends. This friend-family of 18 people started off as four 19 year olds sharing a really shabby student house in Oxford. Unlike most other student houses, we lived as a family, sharing shopping and meals all year and hosting some pretty impressive parties! We watched rubbish daytime TV on a tiny black and white telly that could only be seen properly if three people sat on one armchair. Which we did. We used to solve essay crises with a quick visit to the pub next door for a beer and a game of darts.

And now there are 18 of us. And we watch our children, ranging in age from 5 to nearly 16, and enjoy spotting which traits we recognise as genetic! Gloriously, our children have very little interest in our old tales of derring-do and wander off to play together or talk, having known each other (albeit often at a distance) for the whole of their lives. This is our shabby student house's legacy of love and experience.

Last week, as we neared the end of our family holiday, I sat in West Ireland around a table with seven other people. That group (which feels as close to family as it's possible to get without the genetics) was born when three of us all met in a seminar room in Amiens, France. Whilst we were all French degree students on our third year placement abroad, we were from very different places.

However, what became clear very quickly was that we shared much more than being nervous about this new life. We were all creative and passionate about music, theatre and film and we all wanted to make the most of being in France for the year. We enjoyed discovering new food and wine, as well as spending time with other young teachers in the town, along with the Italian and German language assistants. However these placements are decided, it could not have been a better fit. Our year in France was glorious and unforgettable.

And the fact that the other two of the three turned out to be a really good fit meant that friendship became even more precious. I had had the privilege of watching their friendship blossom into something more and they sensitively walked with me when I found myself sad that I wasn't able to share this glorious experience with M, with whom I'd only just started a relationship when I left the UK. The understanding and love that provided the foundation for this friendship remains. M is very much part of this and now we have four beautiful, funny children to add to this group. I found it particularly striking last week - two of us took GiraffeBoy and their youngest daughter to play football and I found myself just watching with awe as this beautiful, sassy 4 year old girl and my big, graceful boy played together with ease.

We appear to be bringing up four amazing human beings who have talents and passions just like we do and who revelled in the easy banter and jokes being thrown around the dining table that evening. And all this came from an arbitrary decision by a French teacher to put three young English speakers in the same town. This is our Year in Compiegne's legacy of love and experience.

I seem to spend a lot of time marvelling at the children I know and especially mine - just having them has been a cause for wonder and surprise and certainly not something I would take for granted. They bring challenges as well as joys but this summer I am remembering again that what they represent is precious - the coming together of a couple, the sharing of love, family and friendship and all that promise of potential to be something more than the sum of the parts which brought them to where they are now.

My Grandma is right - just look at what can grow when love is in the roots and the soil....