Several weeks ago, the women in my family celebrated my mom’s 79th birthday by taking her to high tea at a historic hotel in Denver, The Brown Palace.  It’s a classy place where heads of state stay when they are in town.  Before atriums were made commonplace, The Brown Palace had one, topped with a Tiffany dome.

Our reservation was for 2pm in the afternoon and half the fun was seeing three generations of women in my family dressed up, despite the freezing January weather. One matriarch, two daughters-in-law, two daughters, and five granddaughters. Ages 6 through 79. Sitting on elegant couches, around a low table, drinking three kinds of tea, poured from heavy silver tea pots.  On the table were placed three trays, filled with chocolates, cheesecakes and mousses, cucumber and egg salad and turkey sandwiches, scones. Devonshire cream and jam completed the tasty treats. Our waitress wore a strand of pearls against a black and white uniform.  She had a fresh face that said, "You are in for a treat!"

And so it was a treat. Two hours later, we emerged from the salon of women that filled the hotel’s atrium, feeling indulged, more connected to one another, and grateful for the experience.