There were eight of us last night. Deb, the Queen of the Coronas went all out--dinner party style--with a grandly set table, centerpieces, and several types of forks. As I sat, listening to the conversations around me, I wondered how I got so lucky to meet these women.
As much as I miss my Arizona peeps--and I miss them all--I'm grateful to have been welcomed unconditionally into this group for no rhyme or reason. Their culture and upbringing is so different than what I know. And yet... There is truly an awe of being included when starting over. And if that sounds hyperbolic, I remember rambling around Wake Village, mourning my daddy's passing, wishing I had a sympathetic ear at a time when I desperately needed a friend. So, I have some reasons.
Forgive me. This time of year brings out the sentimental. It is exactly three years ago today that I saw my father for the last time. Three days later, we arrived in Texas.
Anyway, mini-Corona night was a blast. We played some new Uno game (which the Sunshines are getting for Christmas), where one hand lasted three hours and there are "draw 10" cards. After half the ladies left, the four remaining played Mexican Train--a dominoes game, Krissy is very sorry she taught me, especially because I cleaned their clocks for the second time.
Next week is the official Corona Night. There are sixteen Coronas, if we all show. It is obvious this past week's party was only for a select few. I'm honored to have been on that A-list.
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