I had a wonderful Memorial Day weekend. There was sun, and cuddles with the family dog, and random movie classics that our dad would leave playing on the television. There were hours spent in the sweetest of company: my sisters, whom I love to the ends of the earth. Seriously, no one gets me laughing, crying, fuming, and talking—and I mean, talking—like they do. And they get me. There were also mini adventures that were had: 6 AM hikes, a much-too-brief reunion with a dear friend, and a trip out to Newport Beach, which I have to say was surprisingly delightful. I was never much of a beach person, but now I find myself craving white sands and sunblock and the lapping of the salty Pacific.
On the other hand, there were moments that left my heart feeling bruised and stretched: the relearning of family customs, the typical squabbles, everywhere I turn the echoing reminders of time passing and time long past. And of course, there were the inevitable goodbyes. You would think by now that I’d be used to the ritual. But for whatever reason, it never gets easier. In fact, I feel it only gets harder.
But such is life, and family. It’s a hard reality to swallow sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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Readers — How was your Memorial Day weekend?