Road trips, old friends, and the unexpected.

(1) I took a much-needed road trip from Los Angeles to Salt Lake City to see some friends and family.

Now, when I moved away from Utah back in early 2016, I never wanted to return. (I have a terribly visceral all-or-nothing way of looking at life that has served me well at times; other times, not so much. I’ve always gone back to Utah for holidays and special occasions, but until recently, every time I’d gone home, I would count down the days until I was out again.)

But, these days, I kind of miss it. The peace of familiarity (even though it has changed so much from the quaint state that I grew up in), the grandeur of the mountains that I took for granted as I grew older, and the easy, slow days spent with family — I appreciate all of it now more than ever.

I went back to see my parents, my brother, and my nephews, but also to visit my grandmother before her late-stage dementia progresses to the point that she no longer recognizes me. To my surprise, she immediately knew who I was when I snuck up behind her as she sat at the lunch table with her newfound friends in the memory ward of her care center — no doubt the four of them all sharing whatever wild stories their minds could still conjure up from their past. I’d imagine they were reminiscing about the good ol’ days: how much of a hunk Frank Sinatra was in the ‘50s, life under Kennedy, the roses that graced the front yard of their first home, or that one time they accidentally met Charles Manson. You know, typical old-lady stuff.

When my family first moved to Salt Lake City, we lived with my grandparents. And my grandmother, specifically, has remained a favorite person of mine from childhood until now. I remember the first time I showed up to a family dinner with the telltale signs of a hangover; she simply said to me, “Bright out today, isn’t it?” We both laughed and it remained our little secret.

My grandmother always seemed to “get me” when I was growing up. She knew my likes and dislikes, she knew how to get me out of my shell, and she always had something clever to say about my new hairstyle.

Anyway, the strange thing about dementia is that you have to mourn a person who is still very much alive. I mean, they’re there, but not really. Makes me think about how often we mourn aspects of our own lives, not because of death, but because we’ve forgotten who we are.

(2) I made a pit stop in Las Vegas on my way both to and from Salt Lake City to hang out with one of my oldest friends (we went to the same high school, and aside from family, I haven’t had anybody in my life longer).

He’s visited (and stayed with) me everywhere I’ve ever lived since leaving Utah — from 42nd Street in New York City to a dirt road in Loxahatchee. He even moved in with me and Ethan’s mom back when we first found out that she was pregnant with our son. Needless to say, he’s been there through every major change, progression, regression, and variation of my life.

It’s always great to see him, and a three-hour lunch just flew by as we caught up, discussing old memories, new challenges, and future dreams.

(3) I love this quote.

(4) While on the road somewhere between Las Vegas and St. George, I received the best news that I’ve received in a looong time. A project that I’ve been wanting to work on for nearly three years is finally ready to start. And, I’m stoked.

Really. Fucking. Stoked.

That’s all I can tell you for now.

(5) Quite opposite from the above, almost immediately after I returned home from my quick five-day trip, I received some bad news that I was not expecting. And, once again, that’s all I can tell you for now.

But, as I’ve begun to process both the good and the bad of the past week, I’ve realized how important it is to stop living with the idea of “When _____ happens . . . I’ll be okay.”

Waiting for tomorrow to change how you feel today is a surefire way to postpone — or prevent altogether — you’re ability to live with the vibrant, all-encompassing energy that makes life enjoyable. Because you never truly know what’s around the corner, and if you’re waiting for a change to happen before allowing yourself to live, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment, lost time, and regret.

Fortunately, I was hit with the good news before the bad news so I’m in a better place to deal with the inevitable changes that are coming my way. But, it very easily could have happened the other way around. Or perhaps without the good news at all.

Moving forward, I’ve decided to make a concerted effort to focus more on daily routines than future outcomes.

Thanks for reading.

As always, I appreciate your time, support, and attention.

—KC