The best gift

Yesterday morning I posted from a hotel room in Poland.
When I arrived in Tallinn in the afternoon, my hubby picked me up, my youngest was with him and then we picked my middle daughter up for a train station and headed to my parent's place, my childhood home, where my parents, my sis, my two nephews and my oldest daughter were waiting already.

The welcoming hugs were followed by the fuss of getting the food on the table, the excitement of a toddler playing hide-and-seek and seek with the big cousins, the overview of what everyone did last week and planned to do in the future, the trips down the memory lane and the laughter about the misheard statements and answers to questions that were not even asked, and then the contentment of a full stomach.

"I can't tell you how happy I am that we are all together," said my father after we had finished our dinner. He sat on a sofa, his wild grey hair framing his face, glasses popped on his nose and warmth beaming from his smile.

All of us sitting around the table nodded. This is what is best in life - being together with the family. This time we got together to celebrate my dad's 85th birthday. He didn't want to have a big party, many guests nor any gifts. All he wished for was his children and grandchildren to be with him.