Here's a thing I learned today, on the day my yoga teacher promised me "high vibrations" would make something exciting happen: When death is on the line, nothing really matters. The Bachelorette doesn't matter and dresses don't matter and nothing matters except everybody you've ever loved. All that really matters is watching your kid graduate or walk down the isle and how many days you spent with your family before you couldn't do that anymore.
You have to realize that -- you have to realize what's important before death is on the line and you're then required to realize it in the scariest, saddest way possible, but it doesn't even matter that I'm saying that to you right now, because you won't realize until you have to. That's the way it works.
What I'm saying is that sometimes, when someone says, "Drive out here and do sidewalk chalk with me," that isn't what they're really saying. They're saying, "Listen, we're going through this thing, and you're not going to come down here and talk to me about it, you're going to come down here and just be with me because we haven't done that enough in the last year, and you matter to me."
All my love,