I Want A House With a Crowded Table
I Want A House With a Crowded Table
Some thoughts on post-divorce friendship. Plus, annual reminder that I'm not a soup person, but you do you.
Two of my best friends came for a kid-free weekend recently, and since one of my best friends is Amy Palanjian, she arrived (having driven 4 hours from Pennsylvania!) with a giant Tupperware full of meatballs and sauce, plus fancy pappardelle, salad, wine, and chocolate chip cookies. Reader, we married her.
Well not officially, but whenever we fantasize about living in a commune together as old ladies—everybody has this plan with their closest friends right—a lot of the logistics hinge on how well Amy will feed us. (The rest of us contribute other skills!) And that meal in particular felt like such a glorious kick-off to fall. Another good friend dropped by, we ate while wearing hoodies on my screened porch because it was a cool but not yet freezing evening. And then sat around and talked and laughed for hours, which is my very favorite kind of night — when the table is crowded in just the right way.
I’m going to talk more about life post-divorce later this week, but one of my very favorite parts of my life now is how much my friendships are at the center of it. I didn’t expect this to feel like such a big shift.