So the other day, I started to tell a story. Big surprise there, huh? I said, “We used to have a party for the anniversary of when we bought our old house and . . . “
I was interrupted right then by my daughter-in-law Jen, who said sweetly, “Any excuse to have a party. “ Oh, look,” she said, pretending to be me, “our bush died. Let’s have a party.”
That stuck me as so funny that I laughed until I couldn’t breathe. I laughed until no sound came out. If I had been standing up I probably would have wet my pants.
She poked fun so gently that I felt loved and appreciated. She showed me a truth in my life and that truth made me very happy. Here it is: I love to have parties. I love to have people over, to go out for lunch, to make plain old chores an adventure. If it’s fun, it’s a party.
Until she said it, I never saw that truth before. I never saw how much I wanted it to be true. I never saw that I had achieved a great goal in my life until she said, “any excuse to party.” Any excuse to bring joy, to have fun, to gather people and enjoy them, any reason to get happy, to light up a room. I’ll take any excuse to fight the dark, fight loneliness, or sorrow, or isolation.
So I’ll make the cookies and put on the coffee. Having you here will make the party. Thanks, Jen.
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