This year, milestones didn’t arrive one by one. They arrived all at once, packed into a family staycation with over twenty-five of us, spanning ages one to eighty. Different generations, different stages of life, all under one roof. Loud, chaotic, warm in the way only family can be.
We went away together, something we’ve started to do every other year, and it’s slowly become a tradition without anyone formally naming it as one. A pause in the calendar where life slows down just enough for us to celebrate us.
We celebrated Diwali, lights and colour and togetherness, but we also celebrated the quieter milestones of the year. First birthdays. Fortieths. Sixtieths. Seventieths. Eightieths. Moments that mark how far we’ve come, and how much life has unfolded in between.
There was something grounding about seeing all those ages side by side. Watching a one-year-old take in the world while an eighty-year-old reflects on a lifetime of memories. It put everything into perspective. Time felt less linear and more shared.
These celebrations weren’t about grand gestures or perfectly planned moments. They were about presence. About being able to sit together, eat together, laugh together, and acknowledge the passing of time without fear. Just gratitude.
I felt deeply aware of how lucky we are to still have these moments. To still have each other. To be able to gather generations together and celebrate life while everyone is here to be celebrated.
Not everyone gets this. Not everyone gets to mark milestones like this, in full rooms, with overlapping conversations and shared history. And that awareness makes it feel even more precious.
I’m grateful that this has become our rhythm. Every other year, stepping away from routine to honour the years we’ve lived, the ones we’re entering, and the fact that we get to do it together.
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