Today was the first of what I hope are many Sunday dinners at my house. We never had formal after-church dinners at my house growing up, but I attended a few with Mr. N/A’s family, and I am missing the idea of family traditions. I don’t think our weekly pilgrimage to Taco Bell counts.

I chose a casserole dish (an Indiana thing that my girls seem to love) that was simple to make but looked special, a couple of sides, and a no-bake chocolate-chip cookie pie that was a huge hit, even with my picky son.

We dined in the dining room, lit candles, and enjoyed each other. There is something magical about a dining room – even though we didn’t dress up – that promotes different behavior. It still felt like something was missing, but I remember that feeling even when Mr. N/A was at the head of the table.

My son noticed the details – the antique avocado green glass bowl I used for his parmesan cheese, the tiny porcelain spoon… and the cloth napkins folded into pretty flowers on the good white dishes.

I would say it was successful.

I recently ordered the perfect chandelier for the dining room to replace the ugly brass one the builder gave us, along with some butter-colored silk curtains for the windows. I’ll be looking for the package to arrive this week. Then, just a few more tweaks, and that room will be completely “done.” I hope we create lots of good memories in there.

I’m also dreaming about hosting some adult dinner parties, though at the time of this writing, I have absolutely no idea who I would invite. But I truly miss playing hostess, and in my heart, I think today’s society is sorely lacking in the “dinner party” department. Or maybe I’m the only one missing out.

At any rate, it feels good to know we’re coming up on two years in this house with no rumblings about another move in the near future. This would be about the time for Mr. N/A to start shaking things up with talk about another job in god-knows-where. (True to form, the girls said he IS considering a job change. Something about not being appreciated by his acquiring company… a.k.a. not enough “narcissistic supply.”)

But I will continue striving for some tradition and some semblance of “normal” that doesn’t feel too empty or feigned, despite my broken family.

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