Treasure the now
A celebratory weekend of food, drink, music, and dance - coming together to witness, honour, and celebrate, with a touch of sadness reminding us to treasure the now.
Enabling The How #206. Reading time: 7 minutes
Sometimes we have weekends that are sparse and open, empty of social engagements. Then we have weekends that are filled to bursting with revelry and celebrations. This past weekend was one of those. It was packed full of people brought together to eat and drink, witness and honour, sing and dance. The joy was tinged with sadness too.
As a rule our weekends are pretty slow, some would say, boring. It suits us, though, to have down time to float from easy breakfast to the odd small errand and then to put our feet up and chill.
It is also a delight to host small groups for dinner. To be able to engage deeply with one or two couples, whose friendship we cherish is a great pleasure. It offers us an opportunity to connect and share at a level that is impossible at big events.
We had a spontaneous dinner on Friday for two dear friends. We rustled together a meal made mostly from vegetables we grow, picked fresh, bottled or pickled. This delightful creation was crafted by Matthew, our resident chef, with the expert support of our junior chef, Chantal, who chopped and sliced and prepped and poured.
The resident chef reported that the main course was a vibrant stew of tomato, mange tout, and baby carrots, enriched with tender pea protein and delicately seasoned to enhance its natural sweetness and depth of flavour. This hearty yet light dish was elegantly presented on a bed of fluffy red quinoa, offering a subtle nuttiness and satisfying texture.
The stew was perfectly complemented by a crisp, garden-fresh salad of tender spinach and mixed lettuce leaves, accented with jewel-toned pickled beetroot, refreshing white cucumber, and creamy feta cheese. The salad’s bright flavors and contrasting textures were elevated by the knowledge that all the ingredients were lovingly harvested from our own food garden, bringing a true farm-to-table freshness to the plate.
Voila!
It was a light, early night that set the tone for a fulsome weekend.
Significant celebrations
Significant celebrations are an honour to be part of. Saturday morning dawned with happy memories of a day just over three years ago when Chantal woke to a similar sun sparkled day to get ready for her own daughter’s wedding. This time it was the day of the nuptials of the daughter of a long time friend.
There is something special being there from birth to beautiful bride. Emotion stirs to witness the path from serious rosebud lipped baby girl with a shock of white blond hair to statuesque gorgeous woman, her still-blond tresses flowing down her back as she crosses the threshold to a new phase of her life.
We almost did not get there on time. The invitations had come via WhatsApp and a link to a website. Chantal had, in her number dyslexic fashion, mistakenly seen the “4” in 14h00 as 4pm! Being an extremely organised person, the bride sent a gentle reminder to arrive before the start time at 13h45.
“Why so early?” asked Chantal to a distracted Matthew, who didn’t know what she was talking about, so it was mostly to herself.
She had the good sense to check the invitation link again before sending off a response that would have made her rather red faced.
“We might have missed the entire ceremony," she whispered, horrified, as Matthew cancelled a coffee meetup that no longer could go ahead. Everything takes longer than you expect and we had been asked nicely to be punctual.
We arrived in good time and had an outstanding one. We witnessed the exchanging of vows, a sacred ceremony more important than any after party. And party we did too. We cheered the new couple on, listened to messages and speeches that tickled the eye and scratched the throat, roared in pleasure at their first delightful dance and laughed when the wrong or the right person caught the bouquet and the pot of marmalade that stood in for a non-existent garter.
Bouncing bunny birthday
The weekend was not done of merriment. On Sunday we celebrated the first birthday of Leah, Chantal’s granddaughter. It was another beautiful day for the family and friends picnic party on the rolling green lawns of Cailyn’s generous uncle and aunt.
There was a play area in one corner of soft climbing cushions and a bright ball pond. Leah in her own sparkling fairy dress bounced, climbed and waddled her way through the maze of fun.
Leah was the star of the moment. One minute she was performing all her moves, waving to the crowd who called and coerced with balloons and colourful ribbons for smiles as they clicked their smartphones. The next instance had her crawling into the crook of a parent’s arm, suddenly overwhelmed by all the attention.
The cake arrived in its glory of bunnies and treats perfect for the bouncing bonny girl who had lived out the first year of her precious new life. Leah will have memories from the photos and videos, the rest of us will have memories of a baby girl toddling into a new phase of her little life.
One day some of us may see her stride down an aisle to another new phase. But that is a long way away. Right now we endeavour to keep her safe from the death traps that are home furnishings, steps and steep stairways. We also hope to teach her not to put every plant in her mouth while coaxing her to eat her greens.
“That vegetation you can eat, Leah.” It’s no wonder she’s confused!
Tinged with sadness
The day, as glorious and festive as it was, held more than a tinge of sadness. One year ago to the day, Matthew’s dad, David, had said his last farewell to this good earth. Once again the bitter sweet juxtaposition of the milestone of one year in a joyous young life stood in silent vigil against the profound ache of loss.
While adults cooed and played, with this growing, learning being, others held tightly onto memories of a father, a grandfather, a brother, a husband, a friend who was forever present even when he was not. A gentle, kind man who yearned to spend more time with his sons when time and circumstance did not allow for it. Those left behind hold both gratitude and regret for times spent and not spent enough.
That’s what happens, a life blossoms and grows. It sets its course in the world and in its wake follow those who love it. Then too soon it is gone. This life, now remembered in the tone of voice of a son, the stance and gait of a sibling, the frown of a grandson, a smile, a sigh, a mannerism. A treasured gift, a scribbled inscription.
How to treasure the now
As we looked at the photos of the celebrations we attended this weekend, we also reached for those pictures of times with loved ones now gone. Precious memories, sometimes taken for granted in the moment, that were quickly discarded for the next stage and the next. Until there was no next. Not in this sphere, not on this earth.
The trick is how to treasure more the now. How to look it straight in the face, grab it with both hands and love it. Hugely. It's how we choose where to focus our attention.
It’s in the decision to let go of the stones of resentment that weigh us down. Or be hobbled by the thorns of anger that we refuse to pull from our feet. They rub us raw and make us fools when life passes by and we have missed it.
All those times we could have, should have, spent more with those we love but didn’t. We can’t remember why, we just wish we had. We wish we had been more attentive and more present.
If we are not present, if we are distracted by our race for recognition and applause, or lost in the quagmire of our own petty concerns, we risk missing the glory of what is also there: the love. The enormous and saturating love that we always swim in but often do not notice.
It’s all around us if we’ll only stop and see it. So do stop and dive in. Dive in and revel in it. That love that makes us who we are.
Until next time.
Yours in feeling,
Matthew & Chantal