For much of my younger years, before my mom went back to work when I was in high school, we gathered at the dinner table as a family nearly every night. But, as I have written before, there also were extended family gatherings on holidays and to celebrate milestones like birthdays and graduations.
Gathering around the table for a meal, breaking bread as it is often said, is so important in many cultures. It’s a way to bring people to not just gather, but to get to know each other, share thoughts and ideas, with food as the centerpiece.
Dinner parties, if only for just a few people, have been part of much of my adult life. My first ones were high school cross country team dinners when I was coaching, learning the art of feeding a crowd of teens vast amounts of spaghetti. After marrying the first time, I was lucky to have multiple couples in my life who were often game for meals whether at our house or theirs.
That continued into my second marriage and last week, as I took the photo that I’ve posted above, with everyone serving themselves and each other, I realized how lucky I am.
I put a lot of thought into the meal– first into what I was going to serve. And then into what I was going to serve it on. The white plates were given to me from my friend Bonnie before she died; the butter dish, the carved wood plate the bread sits on, and the large glass pitcher belonged to my mom; and the rest of the items are mixed between vintage and wedding gifts (both the first and second time).
Life is about these moments that we share and sharing them over a homemade meal makes elevates their honor and meaning in our lives.