When I graduated from college, my parents “hosted” a party in our backyard. It was very informal. We played volleyball. Burgers on the grill. Beers in a cooler. Kids and grown-ups, my group of friends. It was magical, and feels like it took place in a lost era. My dad. My friend Brett, who died in 2011. There’s such a funny picture of my Dad refereeing a volleyball call – sitting in a beach chair on the sidelines – and Brett jumping up and down in protest, laughing. Brett’s feet are literally off the ground. One of my favorite pictures. But I love this one too. We blasted music and danced in the grass. Mitchell and I are dancing, and my friends Liz and Nancy are there too. Mitchell and I did this goofy dance called “negative space dancing” – well, we called it that – we invented it – where we would fling out our arms into the empty spaces around the other person’s body. The game was to mind-meld, so you never collided arms – to guess where the other person was going with THEIR movements. It was such a happy day and I always loved it when my parents hung out with my friends. They were never “cool parents”, i.e. wanting to “party” with us, but they were always such a nice and open presence and everyone loved them. Great celebration.
