Posts tagged summer
Lessons in Messy, Beachy Love
Brought to you by 1962 and 1963 for that matter.
This shot was taken 48 years ago this summer. It’s my mom and my dad and one year before their wedding day, today. Thinking back on their love. Messy, beachy love. Love that sometimes slammed doors and didn’t talk in the morning but by midday couldn’t stay away from each other sort of love. Love that said I choose you even though sometimes I cannot stand you. Love that went to the beach hating the sand because you were happiest there. Love that lived at your bedside when you were ill. Really ill. Like going home ill. That sort of love.
Missing my mother today but not nearly as much as my father is.
Wishing you a love like that and then some,
Cole
Lessons in Details and Gratitude
Brought to you by a McDonald’s large, not medium, Diet Coke.
It’s Friday and the end of a very, ultra busy event week. I have sore everything and things are throbbing that shouldn’t throb. On top of that, on a morning where I should bask in the glory of my amazingness, which is what I do the mornings after events, I had a press conference to stage.
*cursing under my breath and out of my bed which I did not want to get out of*
It’s post press conference. I park underground, come inside my apartment, kick off my heels and instantly feel grateful. I mean grateful in the hugest way someone can feel grateful. Grateful like empire state building or egyptian pyramid big grateful. That grateful. But it’s for the little things. The detail things.
Here’s a couple I thought I’d share.
Feet free from four inch heels. Large diet cokes when you normally get medium diet cokes - especially hot days with air conditionless cars. Service managers that say, “I know others don’t see but I see you - you have your eye on everything, Cole. I see.” Sunglasses that shade harsh sun and brief frustrations. Showing grace when I only want to show ‘strangle’. Home air conditioning set low and then lower again. Mixing up all The Godfather movies to make my own synopsis. Assistants that finish my sentences and understand my different head nods. Men that remember. Summers. Being called a sexy, smart damsel in distress. Working until my team stops working. Necklaces that turn into bracelets that turn into sometime belts. Tears that last three minutes instead of three days. Sweaters. Messy beachy hair. Almost biting my nail but then not because things really are okay. Little boys with summer tans that scrunch their noses when they answer you. Girls that proclaim their favorite color is pink until their favorite color is green. Oh, and nicknames. I love a good nickname.
I like details. I love the little things. I’m enjoying this summer, this Can’t Decide If I’m Going To Be Hot Or Cold Summer. It’s fickle. I understand it. It’s sort of like a woman that way. I get that.
Much love to you as you pay attention to the little details of your very big every days,
Cole
