About a month ago I thought about what I would like to do to celebrate my birthday this year. Only one thing came quickly to mind—have a Dungeness crab dinner at my house with some of my favorite people. The calendar fit perfectly. I could have the dinner on Saturday, December 3rd. I quickly sent out an evite, but knowing it was the first weekend of the holiday party season, I expected many invitees to hold out on their RSVP to see if they got a better invite, or to have committed already to a competing event. I didn’t promote it as a birthday party for a number of reasons, namely, because it wasn’t; it was my birthday present.
To my great surprise, nearly everyone responded promptly and the replies were “yes.” That alone was a birthday boost enough. Then, there was the night itself, last night. A picture perfect night. So perfect, in fact, that not a photo was taken. And for good reason. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but, a thousand words would not be enough to describe the moments of last night, as I saw and felt them.
It was not perfect night in the “Martha Stewart” sense, but it was flawless. You know, the kind of flawless: twelve matching place settings, and four of the everyday; seating for ten at the table, so six guests sit at the island; announcing dinner is served only to realize that the asparagus hadn’t been steamed. But there were plenty of moments of which even Martha would have been proud: the beauty of 30 pounds of fresh Dungeness crab situated on a white platter, waiting to be cracked at the red-clothed, candle-lit table; Natalies’ mazurka; peanut butter pies from the Lowe ladies; Rhonda’s super yummy dip; Denise’s perfectly spiced and sugared pecans; fresh lemons and strawberries; drawn butter.
Not all of my favorite people were there or even invited, but all of those who were there were among those I cherish most. Most of these people had never met each other before; they were all friends of mine, but not of one another. Yet, these people seemed genuinely interested in getting to know each other, and to find out why I found each of them so special, and that, to me, was such an honor and awesome thing.
These people will have no idea how much their company last night meant to me. I felt as much warmth, joy, and contentment in the twinkly light, firelit room, as I think I ever have. I may have been the hostess, but, somehow I found myself completely relaxed and feeling like the guest of honor.
It was the perfectly imperfect kind of a dinner party where it makes no difference how perfect or imperfect anything is because there is so much love in the room. Oh, the joy that I felt at preparing for dinner, serving those guests, and watching them interact and, ostensibly, enjoy themselves. It was the perfect gift for me; they were the perfect gifts, and crazily, they probably didn't even realize it.
My picture perfect evening, without a single photo to show for it. You know it’s a good evening, when the moments are so precious that you refuse to miss or disrupt any of them just to snap a photo.
My picture perfect evening, without a single photo to show for it. You know it’s a good evening, when the moments are so precious that you refuse to miss or disrupt any of them just to snap a photo.
Thanks to the delightful mix of friends who gave me just what I needed to make year 38 better than year 37, and here’s to always having more friends than place settings and more photo-worthy moments, than photos.
