Dad never traveled far. As he got older anything more than an hour from home seemed to trigger some anxiety. So, he never would have been able to join us for this trip if he was still alive. After the funeral we were of course all dealing with his death in our own way. This family trip to the beach was the best idea I ever had. His grandkids had never seen the ocean, let alone fly in a plane before. The heat and drought of the midwest was getting old, and there was still time before school started to get a trip planned. Mom would have plenty of things to do, to sort, to clean, throw out and plenty of time in the future to do it.

So we celebrated life. Ocean breezes. A condo on the beach. Surf lessons in the day for the kids, a fire and s’mores at night. Tandom flights in paragliders, a harbor cruise, a tour of an aircraft carrier. More swimming in the pacific ocean, and warming up in a giant jacuzzi afterward. Legoland. Long walks on the beach. Watching Eckart Tolle YouTube videos. Reading. Eating.

Dad and me

Most of the time was spent together, ten of us. And there was time to be alone, to watch a sunset, a moon rise, or just sit and listen to the waves crashing continuously outside our patio.

It was a great week. A break from our routine. Celebrating life.