...because one dear friend just had a baby, and another's due in two weeks. And celebration was in order. I hesitate to say too much about the fun-ness of the evening, the deliciousness of the food, or the beauty of the table because it was at my house and I was sort of in charge of a lot of that stuff, but ... it was really fun. (That had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the company). The food was delicious (that I can also say objectively because all the homemade fare was contributed by willing helpers and the rest was complements of Sister Costco). And the table...well, I'm just going to say it: It was beautiful (in my opinion). And I had something (everything) to do with it. And I'm kind of proud of myself. (Shrug).
(This is the point where I quiet the shrill toot of my own horn and begin to talk about something of substance). There are some things I believe cannot be overstated. My love for my children, for example, is something I could never express to excess. In fact, quite contrarily, words allow only dim hints at what exists in my heart for them. Another thing I will continue to state (and state, and state...and state) which might seem like overstatement to some of you, but will never feel like enough statement to me, is my gratitude for the circle of friends I find myself in the middle of here.
I lucked into a little pocket of quiet after all the guests left last night. I sat and thought about the women that had just filled my living room -- the goodness and love and talent and warmth and humor and wit and grace and, and, and...
Of course, there aren't words for what I felt. But it was warm. And tender. And thankful.
When you are the kind of person who gets giddy at the first mention of family affairs and you live really far from your own family, you make one wherever you are. That's what we've done here -- we've made a "family" of friends. So I guess the best way to describe last night was that it felt like I had thirteen sisters in my home. The joy!
And to you, dearest Sarah, (who's leaving us for the "city where the heat is on" in T minus six days...) a little piece of my heart will always be where you are. Always. (More to come on that...)
Well, there's a tear in my beer. And my baby is stirring...
That'll have to be it for today.