Dinner party

I was  thinking this morning about the people who have influenced my life for one reason or another. Most of them are now deceased, but if I could, it would be fun to invite them to sit at my table for a meal and conversation. What would I serve them? It would be my famous crock pot chicken over egg noodles and a scrumptious desert. Perhaps angelfood cake with fresh berries!

Now for the guest list.

First it would be my maternal grandparents, William 1886-1918 and Laura 1891-1984. There are some questions I would like to ask them. In doing ancestry research, a baby boy cropped up that I am wondering about. Who are the biological parents of this child? I also have some unanswered questions about my own birth. Then there is my belief that at least one of them possessed spiritual gifts that were never discussed in my life time.

Richard Bach, born 1936, would be a welcome guest. I would love the chance to talk to him about his unusual beliefs and thank him for being an inspiration for my current writing style. His book, Illusions, gave me the push I needed to try my wings as a motivational writer. One of his quotes sticks in my mind: "What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly".

Maya Angelou, 1928-2014, would be a star guest. She was a poet, actress, author and civil rights activist. She was also one of the most amazing women I have ever read about. She came from nothing and rose to great heights before her death. The words, "and still I rise" are associated with her life.

Another amazing guest would be Dr. Wayne Dyer, 1940-2015. He was a highly respected motivational author and speaker. One of his famous quotes is: "If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at will change".

There are also two souls who I personally knew in this life that would be guests. The first is, Mr. Hall, my high school journalism teacher. I would love to pile up the published books, E-books and blog posts I have written since 2000 and plop them in front of his face. I was never given a chance to write in his class because all he cared about were the "popular" students.

The other soul from my past is a lady by the name of Juanita Pilcher. She was a friend of my mothers who later became a friend of mine. She saw something in my that escaped my biological relatives. I would like to ask her just what that was. Toward the end of her life I was one of the few people she wanted to talk to. We don't always know how important we are to another until it is too late.

Although my guest list is not very long, these are the people who would be invited to my special dinner party.