A few weeks ago I ran away and I brought my family with me.


It’s become my favorite thing to do for my birthday week. 


Nestled neatly between the end of the school year and the beginning of the longest stretch of summer, for years that week has provided my family and I with the perfect freedom to get away. 


There are 4 simple rules for this escape from our normal lives and they are always the same. Our location must:

1. Be located in a climate with palm trees. 
2. Require an airplane to get there. 
3. Have a swimming pool. 
4. Provide opportunities for lots and lots of time with the 4 of us together. 

This year as I floated in the vacation pool with my champagne-margarita in hand, I realized that although those 4 rules are constant, we never travel with the same 4 people.


In fact, two of the guests on this trip are completely different each year.


This year we traveled with an almost 17 year old, complete with his driver’s license, and a 5’11” 13 year old with long flowing hair that would leave even the 1969 version of Paul McCartney completely jealous. 


A few years ago, we traveled with a soon to be high school freshman and a soon to be first year middle schooler, both eager and nervous to start the next stage of their educational and social adventures.


And it wasn’t that long ago that we traveled with a real life 7 year old pirate and his 10 year old transformers-obsessed brother. 


Somehow it really feels like just yesterday that we were traveling with two tiny children - pull ups, blankies, and pool swimmies jammed into our suitcases as we lugged strollers and car seats through airports.


But this year instead of little voices shouting “mommy watch this!”, the pool was filled with the manly voices of my teenagers and my husband playing one of their many games of intensely physical pool basketball. 


While they played, I sipped my cocktail and smiled at the sounds of their booming voices shouting out to each other. 


And every once in a while, I closed my eyes and could almost hear the echoes of the small boys that used to travel with us. 


Because those little versions were still there too.


The truth is that if I look closely enough I can always see those versions everywhere. 


They are in the dimples on their faces


They are in their sweet expressions when they fall asleep. 


They are in the way they throw their heads back when they find something truly funny.


They are there in their still favorite blankets. 


They are there every time they choose to sit down beside us on the sofa to play music or watch a movie.


They are always there - no matter how old their current versions get or how many inches they tower over me now.


And what a gift it is to watch the sweet merging of all those versions of my babies.


I wonder who will join us next year. 
​

​Recently my family drove north to stay at a hotel for one last getaway before summer ends.
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Life on the other side of our shared hotel room wall was very different than life on our side.
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The family on the other side of the wall was the same as my family - just a version of us from 12 years ago.
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On the other side of the wall were high pitched squeaky voices that shouted “mommy look!” over and over again.
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On our side of the wall were tall manly teenage boys with deep and sometimes moody voices.
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On the other side of the wall were toy train whistles and giggles.
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On our side of the wall were xboxes and conversations about politics.
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On the other side of the wall they were silent by 8pm and awake by 6am.
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On our side of the wall we stayed up past midnight and slept in late.
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On the other side of the wall the parents were the last to fall asleep.
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On our side of the wall I was the first to fall asleep.
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On the other side of the wall were bedtime stories, sweet lap cuddles, raspy early morning voices, and sippy cups of milk.
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On our side of the wall were requests for coffee, sarcastic quips, and eye rolls.
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Both sides of the wall were filled with love and families just trying to find joy with each other as summer comes to a close.
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No matter which side of the wall you are on right now, enjoy your time there.
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There is peace and magic and beauty on both sides of the wall.

Last week my family of 4 snuck away with my sister’s family of 6. We decided to continue our pandemic social distancing but do it from a different place. We piled into two cars and made the trip to a beauitful house in the mountains. All 10 of us in a house together, on vacation, for the first time ever.


It took a pandemic to make it happen.

No travel sports for the children has opened up our schedules. Pre-pandemic, we had to struggle to find a few hours each month where all of us were free. But now, we get to spend one full weekend day together each week and easily found a way to get away for a vacation.

It took a pandemic to make it happen.

As the 10 of us floated down a river in our teethered together inflatable tubes for a full 7 hours, we laughed, we talked, we swam, we stood up and dragged our tubes when the water got too low or the current got too slow, we wondered if the little rapids would kill us when the water was higher and moved more quickly, we relaxed when the current and depth was just right, and we pointed out how lucky we were to be able to have this time together. We made incredible memories with each other.

It took a pandemic to make it happen.

Later that week, as we sat around the dining room table playing game after game after game and belly laughing until it hurt, I breathed it all in and hoped that the future would be kind to this family. I hoped that these days we have been given together would keep the 6 cousins tethered together — just like those tubes on the river — long after the grown ups are gone.

It took a pandemic to make it happen.

While I wish we could go back in time and avoid so much that this year has brought to us, I am also grateful for the forced slow down these difficult times have provided us. Life seems to have more sweet spots now as I decide more deliberately how and with whom I spend my time.

It took a pandemic to make it happen.

Although things often feel wildly out of control in the midst of the current events, my life feels wholly more mine than it did before. Life used to feel like those areas of the river where the water was high and the current was fast — things often felt out of my control and like they were moving too quickly. Other days used to feel like those parts of the river where the currents meet and we had to work hard to get our tubes back on track.

But now, despite all of the stress and uncertainty in life, my life feels like those sweet spots in the river. There is peace, happiness, laughter, and love. Things somehow feel just right.

​It took a pandemic to make it happen.