The best thing you can usually do to a moment is to describe it as was. I like to call this one my Vicco Vajradanti family moment.
This is my family on our orange farm, eating our packed food under the trees by the well. After the meal, we will all get up, and pluck oranges to eat. I like mine slightly green, R prefers her orange and sweet, and papa steals from me. We will pass slices to each other to show off our oranges. My grandfather isn’t there but I like to think that if he were, he would pick the best oranges, experience somehow counts in this task, and give it to me. In my memories of him, he is strictly biased toward me.