I wanted to tell you that when I wrote this and said everything will be fine when the schedule changes,
I was right. The schedule changed, and everything is fine. SO MUCH BETTER THANK YOU BABY JEBSUS.
This is us a few weekends ago. We drove to Dana Point to see Dakota and I finally got to see his new apartment and meet his new (totally sweet) roommate. We hung out and drank healthy smoothies and it was wonderful. Dakota is 22 and Ian is 19 and I still almost on a daily basis find myself suddenly, after just glancing at an old photo or recalling a memory, filling with tears and holding back a good cry because they are grown, so grown, and everything changes, and everyone grows and what that means and looks like you never know, you don't control. And the love is so huge that to fit my human sized body around it can often be painful.
I am so sentimental that looking at a photo of my foot from a week ago can make me weepy. Seriously, it's pretty bad. I have serious existential issues with time. Meditation is something I do almost daily and I usually think about what is the point of being in the moment when I'm not sure that anymore I believe 'the moment is all we have.' In fact, I'm almost sure I don't believe that. At least, it doesn't feel that way, my brain doesn't perceive time that way. It feels more like we have all the moments that were or will be, floating around on some other dimension as ghosts, and we can feel their existence. What does time mean when someone we love dies, for instance? Is the moment 'all we have'? Then what of that person's life, all the love we have? The moment of now is incredibly important in human life, no denying that. But.
All my friends have big butts.