My Sandal Slapped Me In My Face (A Family Story)

My Sandal Slapped Me In My Face (A Family Story)

We were in our hotel room last night doing that thing we do anywhere (and a lot at home) where we act like the best of roommates —

The guys talking on one bed for awhile, one or two of us poking a good kind of fun at the other, Nolan beginning to wrestle Josh, me joining in, then trying on a couple impersonations, plus, a wild dance that ended slapping me in the face with my sandal as I kicked it off in a finale (they ~ and I ~ roared with laughter!)…

As it all flowed like the Hawaiian breeze, a feeling of complete comfort and ease, of being home, filled the space between the four walls.

And then ~ the best of all purposeful pangs…

I thought, as I have many times: I want to keep them both in this nest always. I want to keep all of us safe, I want to keep Nolan safe and, bottom line, keep us alive for always.

Many of us feel this way.

It’s a type of anticipatory mourning, of things changing, of kids who are people growing up and leaving the house etc, *but* a mourning of sorts wrapped in the deepest gratitude, the mix of the two, unbelievably helpful in guiding us to be more present, to spend more time in quality ways *and* to be more ourselves.

Re: the latter, I’m not sure there’s a greater daily gift we can give ourselves or our kids — our goof glory, no Instagram filter, no perfect ‘leg out this way because you’ll look skinnier’ pose, no monitoring how much of our stories we share, nothing, but more of the most of a lighter, light-filled, childlike you (and, therefore, of them).

Because it’s only ever been this more full opening up of ourselves to another, one that says, “I trust you (to see all of me)” which sustains the bedrock of a truest love.

Let’s make happiness your business by creating your authentic brand…

To the best of the rest of your life. 

Life is good.

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