He raised his glass and toasted us in turn. "Today we have really lived," he said.
I looked around the table, and he was right. The youngest was four. The oldest seventy-four. I realized as we clinked glasses that everyone there had made a contribution that day.
We had celebrated accomplishments.
We had given thanks.
We had shared amazing, homemade food. (Unexpected special vegan dishes made just for me - because they are like that with their generosity.)
We had remembered people who had come before us - 5,000 years before.
How did they move those stones? A castle long-since destroyed.
What and why did they write messages?
Did they really live too?
Shouldn't we say this every day?...and not only in a land far, far away...