I didn't die. For the loyal few who still stop by my little neck of the Internet, you may have decided that I was deceased given the lack of posting for a whole forever. I'm alive and well and raising a newborn, a seven-year-old and a ten-year-old. We're in San Diego, having baby showers and enjoying family and soaking up what's left of a ridiculously short summer created by my children being in school through the entire month of June. But not next year. I'm already counting down the days until my children enjoy summer the way it's meant to be experienced. Long and leisure like. Not short and crammed with everything we could dream of in seven weeks.
The reason we're here this particular week though is because my oldest niece is getting married. When I joined this crazy family with the extra "S" in its last name that is both superfluous and also helpful with telemarketers, I inherited three nieces and a nephew. Since that time, we've added another niece, three nephews and three of our own kids.
So when I said, "I do," I had three little flower girls. Two of my nieces and my cousin. The tallest flower girl was nine. Now she's getting married.
Yesterday she told me that her grandpa, my father in law, put new tires on their car as a wedding gift. She laughed about how fantastic it is as an adult to just have someone take care of something important instead of getting you something shiny in a gift bag.
"I remember when Grandpa stood up at your reception and said that their gift to you was a month's free rent," she told me. (We were renting a home from my in laws when we first got married.) "I thought that was the worst gift ever. I looked at you and you were smiling and I just couldn't imagine why that was exciting for you. Now I totally get it."
Perspective. One day you're nine and you're wearing a flower girl dress and thinking free rent is the worst gift ever. The next day you're 22 and getting married and rejoicing over your new tires.
Meanwhile, I feel old.