Close to midnight and the house smells like the wood fire we had going outside. People are asleep. The first round of family and friends were eating tacos and margaritas just in time for Cinco de Mayo and marking the beginning of the long wedding weekend.

While I continued to obsessively check the weather I didn’t regale people as often with the update forecast. For the record: it still calls for 70% chance of rain in the morning with continued hopes of sun and blue skies breaking through the clouds.

Among bites of homemade salsa, guacamole and tacos with marinaded carne asada, pickled onions, two kinds of cheeses and cilantro accompanied by beans mixed with more melted cheese, it was our own family gathering.

“It takes a village” is part of an old African folk saying and famously a highly politicized term. It’s also true. Among our family and friend guests was Brooklyn’s dad who gave a toast so warm, heartfelt and genuine that there wasn’t a dry eye in the backyard.

We sometimes chuckle and comment that people around us think we’re doing it wrong: we should be fighting with our exes. Luckily for me and for Charla and for our former relationships, it took a lot of hard work, maturity, humility, self-honesty, and time to get to this place.

It doesn’t always work this way. In fact, it wasn’t as much about luck as it was about our dedication to our children and ourselves. And best of all, one of our friends learned the true secret of how to make crack tacos. Her guests are in for a treat.