A wonderful weekend

It was a square table, with eight places. Each one filled with a fabulous soul. Between songs we could hear the sea in this little town on a turquoise bay, away from the city, where the stars shine and the sliver moon smiled a skew smile at me. Conversation flowed, freely and happily. Talk of things past, things to come.

The children slept in the bedroom. I remembered how that felt as a child, put to sleep in the dinner party host’s bed – to wake, momentarily, and hear the adult voices, I’d strain my ears to discern my parents’ voices amongst the jollity and, when I heard them, I’d be soothed and fall back asleep, wine glasses clinking, people talking and laughing in the background of my dreams. When did we become the grown-ups?

It was a wonderful weekend, celebrating H’s birthday in a beautiful place where the bright blue sky melted into the turquoise sea, picture postcard-like. We ate, we soaked up the rapidly fading summer sun, we played Trivial Pursuit (I won!) and I marvelled, again, at how lucky I am, to be able to sit at such a table, filled with food, and surrounded by old friends who know my every nuance, and new loves, who make us smile. Because H has a new love who is making her smile, a lot, that wide grinned kind.

I watched as they dipped their toes in the sea, as 3-year old M ran with her mother to the water's edge and I remembered watching a similiar scene, 15 years ago, on a different beach, in a different time, when we were young(er). She looked just the same, despite having had two children. I could smell the salt air and closed my eyes for a minute, and I was there.

And then to come home, driving through the country side with a never-ending sky dotted about with child’s drawing clouds. Home to all the comfort and a night filled with funny faces and laughing… All thoughts of work wiped away with giggles.

And I got to thinking about how it is to have so many to love and to be loved by so many. I couldn’t be luckier, could I?