The aftermath.

I spent three days by myself preparing for a feast, purchasing bright green and purple silk table runners, simple glass candle holders, two new place settings and a beautiful huge platter for a turkey large enough to feed eleven.

Four new coffee mugs found a home in our kitchen, as well as tiny ceramic butter dishes, fresh flowers, delicious cheeses, and bite-size chocolates for each pillow in our guest bedrooms.

Beds were made, towels were washed, plants were re-potted and place cards were created by hand.

When the day arrived, I stepped into it with a profound feeling of gratitude, thankful for the opportunity to spend the entire week getting my home ready for a beautiful circle of friends and family.

I let go of all expectations.

I released all anxiety.

I experienced the entire day from a place of total acceptance; however the day went was going to be absolutely perfect – whatever that turned out to be.

I rode my bike that day, and watched four deer play in a quiet field.

I watched a hawk soar above me and land gently on the top of a tree.

I provided my friends – all of whom brought their own delicious contribution to our dinner – with all the bowls, pots, pans, towels and utensils they needed to prepare their dishes.

I danced with my friend Nancy to a song by Cake.

I laughed until my stomach hurt.

I ate the most amazing Thanksgiving dinner I have ever had in my life.

I listened to each person at our table read a quote that had been
especially chosen for them, and enjoyed hearing them explain why
that particular quote was so perfect.

My quote read:  "Friendship is always a sweet responsibility."

I wept during our meal as two of my friends shared stories of the year they just spent taking care of a dying friend, a friend who died just a few weeks ago.

I wept some more when another friend saw how touched her husband was by these stories and exclaimed to all of us that this was the reason she married him.

I lit candles in our living room after the meal was over and everyone got cozy on our couch.

By the end of the evening, one glass was broken, almost every dish, pot and pan was dirty and every towel was soggy.

Getting the kitchen and dining room back in order took multiple rounds of cleaning and organizing over a period of almost 24 hours.

And it was damn well worth it.

The day is over, but it will now live forever in the hearts and minds of eleven wild, creative, passionate souls who came together in my home to share a holiday and a meal, stories, tears, hugs and laughter.

The day is over, but the sweetness of the memory has only just begun to ripen.