Imagine hosting a dinner where you could invite anyone, assured that they would come. For me, the first and foremost invites would go out to my family. Counting just the immediate ones, we’re already at about ten people.
Next, the list would extend to friends from my hometown – approximately fifty of them. It’s a number that may seem overwhelming, but when you’ve grown up in a community as tight-knit as mine, you’d understand. Each one of them carries a story, a shared memory, a piece of my past.
Then comes the group of friends I’ve made while living in Canada. They are the ones who’ve been my support system in this new country, sharing laughter, wisdom, and, at times, consoling tears.
Finally, I wouldn’t forget my colleagues from work. They’re the ones who’ve seen my professional ups and downs and have been there to celebrate and commiserate.
By my estimate, that would bring the total up to about a hundred people. An enormous gathering, but each person uniquely significant.
Thank you for reading this piece. Just imagine this: a dinner party where every familiar face tells a story, where every moment relives a memory. A celebration of connection. That’s my ideal dinner.