It started with a jar

My mother has always believed there is room for one more. Growing up, an unexpected guest was never an inconvenience; it simply meant pulling up another chair and making room and more food. Whether there were two of us or fifty, everyone was welcomed in, included, and invited to stay for awhile. Still to this day, my mother will find just about any reason to bring the whole family together.

My father was happiest with a fishing rod in his hand, although the catch was almost beside the point. What mattered were the stories he told, the advice he shared, and the goofy, often completely tone-deaf dad jokes that somehow became funnier with time. He taught us the value of slowing down long enough to listen. Though he is deeply missed, his stories, humor, and lessons remain part of our lives. More than anything, he wanted his daughters to be happy. His wish for us was beautifully simple: “May happiness be your only goal.”

In our home, we still slow down and gather around the kitchen table for meals and games. We talk about our day or the week behind us. One story reminds us of another, someone brings up an old memory, we laugh, and for a little while, the rest of the world can wait.