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Gibbon Gazette

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My thoughts, as we drove my mother home, were that it had been a very good day. At first there was a quietness, because most of us were not sure if we would recognize anyone - not even the relatives we see every day! Yvonne broke the ice for us in her own special way

. Several people had asked us if they should bring anything and if so what should they bring. We told them to bring any family photographs or pictures of people they didn't recognize so that we could try to identify family members. Yvonne told us that she needed help with some pictures. she held up the first one and said

"I think this might be Nanna, what do you think"

The picture was one of those snaps that you hide in the back of a drawer, it was several ladies but you could only see their chests. The photographer had cut off their heads and their legs.

"This is our Mam but I'm not sure who she is with"

A row of female legs was the subject of the next photograph.

"This is Grancha, I think it's a good likeness"

This was a photograph of the back of a man's head. We were beginning to see a pattern emerging and the laughter was growing with every picture.

"Oh, this was the whole family last Christmas" said Yvonne and produced a postcard of the famous painting of the last supper. The shout of laughter caused heads to turn in the car park and the ice was broken. Any barriers of reserve were swept away by laughter and then children were left wondering why their usually staid and sober parents and grandparents were acting in such a peculiar way.

This day was primarily for the children. There are two generations who do not know most of their own family and we are really quite nice to know. Ann Maceys granddaughter Kerry Ann was delighted to discover that a friend in her class at school was also her second cousin once removed

The bonus part of the day was the chance to catch up on news from some members of the family that have only met at weddings and funeral in the last twenty years. To have the time to sit and chat without loud music pounding in our ears and without the sorrow of bereavement to restrict the conversation was a very enjoyable experience.