Life to me is like a dinner party that I don’t ever want to end. Everyone I have ever cared about is seated at the table next to me. I am surrounded with friendship and immersed in love. The food is phenomenal (all grown locally and sustainably of course.) The beeswax candle on the table flickers, and smells divine, but it never melts. A gentle fire crackles in the fireplace nearby. A nostalgic playlist sets the mood and reminds us of all the good times we’ve had together. Toasts are being made and the conversation flows easily. The meal glides seamlessly from one course to the next. I never feel full; the food is just endlessly enjoyable.

And then, one by one, the people I love begin to leave.

No one was surprised by my parents’ departure, least of all not me. We could all see it coming. Their shoulders were slumped and their eyes were glazing over. They were profoundly tired and it was getting late. I desperately wanted them to stay but I knew it was time to let them go. After they left, we raised a glass and toasted their life, their love, their friendship, and their legacy. At some point we all leaned in a little to fill the gap their absence created, and the evening moved on.

Since then, many friends and family have said their goodbyes and taken their leave. One by one. We raised our glasses, toasted their departure, leaned in a little and the evening moved on.

There were loved ones too, that just vanished with no warning at all. They never said anything, I had only looked away for a moment and when I turned back, they were gone. We all expressed our shock and sorrow and leaned in a bit and did our best to carry on.

My mom always told us to take the Christmas tree down while it was still green and to not be the last person at a party to leave. Lately, I’ve become painfully aware of all those empty places at the table. When I noticed the hostess starting to yawn and look my way, I knew I’d overstayed and that she was about to ask me to go. But instead, she just smiled and asked if I wanted another slice of pie.

Perhaps a little too enthusiastically I said “yes please! At least one more- and some ice cream too, if there’s room on the side”

I raised my fork and settled back in. Though my table is definitely getting smaller, I’m still in no hurry to leave.

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