When the House Fills Up Again

This weekend was one of those special ones. You know the kind, full of laughter, clinking glasses, good music, and sunshine. The warm buzz of conversation floated from room to room. Filling up the house feels so good!

One of my sons celebrates his birthday every year with a group of his closest friends. They have all scattered now, living in different corners of France and even further away. But for the past few years, they’ve made it a point to reunite and mark the occasion. Sometimes they gather at our place. Sometimes at one of their own homes.

The planning and logistics are shared, and everyone chips in. This year, the big party took place at one of the other homes. But we had a small crowd staying with us. That meant full guest rooms, extra mattresses on the floor, and a constant flow of people coming and going. And honestly, it’s my idea of heaven.

There is something magical about watching these young people filling up the house again. They are now in their late twenties and early thirties. All of them are fast becoming the adults they’re meant to be. Careers are starting to take shape. Relationships are deepening. One of the boys, whom we’ve known since he was a teenager, announced he just got engaged. He introduced us to his gorgeous fiancée. Another young man, whom I’ve known since he was five, sat beside me and spoke with clarity about a bold new career direction.

I find it to be a privilege to witness this moment in their lives. They’re stepping into a world that can feel overwhelming. Politically, environmentally, and socially, they face challenges we never imagined. Yet they do so with ambition, joy, and purpose. It gives me hope and fills me with admiration.

In our family, we’ve long held a mantra. Work hard. Play hard. I like to think we all honour it in our own way. It was certainly on full display this weekend.

The first wave of guests arrived late Thursday evening. They tumbled off the Eurostar from London with backpacks and birthday spirit in tow. By Friday morning, the terrace had turned into a makeshift co-working space. Laptops were open. Coffee cups were in hand. Everyone found their rhythm between Zoom calls and conversations. Those not tied to screens took bikes and explored the countryside. As the sun dipped low, the group reassembled for a joy-filled dinner in the garden. A strawberry moon rose in the background. The next day flew by with a long, lazy, laughter-filled lunch under the blazing Saturday sun. Later, they swam and got ready for the party that evening.

I sometimes look at this generation, our children and their friends, and worry about the challenges they face. These are challenges we didn’t even imagine at their age. More than ever, I feel it’s our role to offer support, encouragement, and belief. I wonder whether our parents felt the same way about us. Somehow, I think the answer might be no. We are the lucky ones. We slipped quietly between great wars. We had time to find our footing without too much upheaval.

Perhaps that’s why it feels especially important to cheer on this next wave. To give them space, welcome them in, keep the table set, and the doors open.

Does this resonate with you, too? Have you had a similar weekend at your home? The kind where grown children return with friends in tow? Familiar faces you’ve watched grow over the years. Now adults, with stories of their own.

It’s a joy and a privilege, isn’t it? One thing I never take for granted.