I had the joy of celebrating this past weekend– and celebrating hard. With friends and family clustering around at every side throughout, it was well worth putting my phone down, laptop away, and simply being with my most adored ones.
This Saturday we finally celebrated my mother’s fabulous marriage at a bridal shower that was beyond special. A bit belated, but perfect regardless.
Last week many celebrated the birthday of my amazing mother, Sheila. We first enjoyed a warm, espresso martini evening complete with a dance party surrounded by our dearest friends (thank you Alicia and Matt for being such awesome hosts!) and anticipated a much-planned weekend at Elk Meadows just across from Hood River for the upcoming weekend.
Well, looks like I haven’t done a photo roll since July…incredible how time flies.
Here are some snapshots of my everyday.
From the beginning of last Monday, September 30th, until today- it has felt like a constant and unending celebration, understated- yet remarkable, extravagant. From the moment I fell asleep on the eve of my birthday, New Order’s “Ceremony” kept ringing through my head- faintly, softly- but a gentle reminder of the dazzling commemoration of life that comes yearly, if you’re so blessed. The words softly padding through my consciousness every so often:
“This is why events unnerve me,
They find it all, a different story,
Notice whom for wheels are turning,
Turn again and turn towards this time,
All she ask’s the strength to hold me,
Then again the same old story,
World will travel, oh so quickly; travel first and lean towards this time.”
Rather, the onset of the birthday jitters that I so eagerly try to offset, began slightly earlier that night on the 29th when I watched “The Kings of Summer“, a film which onset such nostalgia that I felt like I had drunk a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc (I hadn’t, for the record) to bring the onset of emotions I felt as I watched the lead character and his best friend encounter the anxieties, excitements, and downfalls of adolescence in all it’s meticulously planned chaos. It reminded me much of that exact time of me life- the pulling , itching, primal desire to be free, to be a woman of my own, to push forth into territory unknown and make it mine- even if I wasn’t truly ready to in any way. I think back to lounging about with Brooke Miller in her second to oldest brother’s room, sneakily listening to his music and talking about our futures. The men who would eventually sweep up off our feet and take us to Paris and Rome, the dark hair they would brush from their eyes, and the songs we would marry to. She, to Sigur Ros’ “Staralfur” and I, Explosions in the Sky “First Breath After a Coma”.
We waved goodbye to the waves, plush bedding, and all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet yesterday at Independence Beach feeling refreshed and ready to head back to the city.