Showing up
Couple random thoughts:
In my family, and I think in a lot of Hispanic families, it’s bad luck to celebrate your birthday before the actual day. Supposed to bring you a year of misfortune. Something about taking the next day for granted. I already had a birthday gift purchased - and a delivery scheduled of those roses with a million petals. I never took you for granted.
The other day, I walked around West Philly with J. We walked past C’s job, and where I used to live with M back in the day. I stopped J in the middle of a sentence to take a picture of a rhododendron bush. And she told me that she loves that I’m the kind of person who stops to take pictures of flowers. I really am.
A few nights ago, I was in pain while driving home, so I was rushing. Brow furrowed, my only thought was about my destination. But pulling up to a red light, I caught a glimpse of the most beautiful moon I’ve seen in a long time. So instead of going home, I drove miles out of my way to get a better view. Let shit slow you down sometimes.
Anyway, here’s what the last few days have looked like for me:
Showing up.
Taking the long way home.
3am I love yous.
House tours, frozen mojitos, staying until close.
Sunday mornings writing on the porch.
P.S. Happy birthday tomorrow.