Summer's over, but damn, what a ride......

Sheesh ~ Surfaces

I’m still here! Writing in my mind nonstop, like a never-ending journal with zero off-switch. Healing? Ha! It's less of a linear path and more of an emotional scavenger hunt with twists, turns, a few bruises, and the occasional pit stop for an existential meltdown. But somewhere along the way, I realized something, every tear, every stumble? Proof of just how resilient I am.

Honestly, I’ve cried so much in the shower that even rivers would be jealous. And the pillow industry? Let’s just say they owe me a thank-you card for singlehandedly keeping them afloat. Those poor pillows they’ve absorbed every ounce of love I gave and every bit I had to let go of. They've become honorary emotional support objects. At least now, with every little victory, those pillows have also felt the joy of getting tossed aside in triumph.

And here I am, not hardened like some stoic, unapproachable warrior. Nope. I thought life might turn me into a cactus prickly and impossible to approach but instead, I feel more like a houseplant, delicate, but stronger with a bit of light and care. I didn’t know softness could feel this powerful.

So here’s to every tear, every laugh, every “WTF am I doing?” moment. And who knew that healing came with bonus neck support from a revolving collection of pillows? Now, let’s get into it…

It was Becca’s three-year passing over the summer, and what better way to honor her than by gathering at her favorite place, Costanoa! That little gem is like a slice of heaven on earth. The weather was picture-perfect… well, except for a light sprinkle one morning, which had a few people questioning if Mother Nature had it out for us. But honestly, it just made things feel a little more poetic, as if Becca was having a laugh and adding her own touch to the weekend although she would cringe and complain about her hair.

This was the same crew (minus a few) that came together for her first year, the San Diego girls, the Arizona girls, the San Jose girls, the Sacramento girls, plus me, and the coastal crew who didn’t have to travel far. But this wasn’t just any group, it was Becca’s tribe. These are the kind of friends who’ve become family, bonded by the love we have for her and for each other. If Becca were here, she’d be smiling at the chaos of us pulling people together from all over, probably saying, “Who made this itinerary? You’re doing it all wrong. Who brought the games? Where’s the food schedule? This isn’t how it’s supposed to be done, where’s my bottle of wine” She would’ve still given us all an A for effort, maybe. HA

And that’s the thing about Becca she knew how to weave people into each other’s lives in the most unexpected, beautiful way. Even though we were there to honor her, it felt like she was still doing what she did best, bringing us together, making sure we didn’t let go, and reminding us that even through the loss, there’s still so much love to carry forward.

This time, we didn’t get the chance to crash a wedding though, I’ll admit, I was secretly hoping for a little encore just for shits and giggles. But honestly, no wedding was needed; we still had an amazing time, making new memories, not just for ourselves, but for the little ones too. Watching my friends parent their children was such a beautiful thing, it gave me a whole new level of appreciation for them. The way they navigated the chaos with so much love and patience just made me love them even more.

The only hiccup was that the first night ended up being a party of one... me. By night two, the girls decided it was time to switch gears and go all out. The only catch? I’m a one-hit wonder when it comes to partying, and by the next day, I was barely keeping it together. When the girls cry of “Shots! Shots! Shots!” started, I was already in full recovery mode, clutching my water bottle like a lifeline and shooting side-eyes left and right.  FML I felt like shit! But here’s the thing no one cared if I was rallying or retreating. They were just happy I was there, and that’s the kind of love this group has. It’s not just about the big moments, it’s about showing up however you can, knowing that’s more than enough.

Through all the laughter and shared stories about Becca as we danced around the campfire, a wave hit us hard and all at once. Our last dinner together at Costanoa was one for the books, but not just because of the food or company. While we waited downstairs for our tables to be ready, two of the San Jose girls quietly slipped upstairs ahead of us. They didn’t just grab seats they created something truly special. When we walked in, we found the long table beautifully decorated with framed photos of Becca, along with candid shots of her with all of us, gently placed across the table. It was a breathtaking sight and with it came that sudden, quiet ache of missing her.

We came on this trip to honor Becca, to laugh, to share memories, and to celebrate her life. But standing there, surrounded by her photos, we were reminded just how deeply she touched all of us and how much we still feel her absence. It was one of those moments where love and loss sit side by side, and somehow, it was both beautiful and heavy all at once.

Those San Jose girls really outdid themselves, capturing Becca’s presence perfectly. It felt like she was there with us, in every laugh, in every memory, and in every hug we shared that night. And even though the sadness was so very real, so was the gratitude, for Becca, for this tribe, and for the love that continues to connect us.

I know the five-year remembrance trip will be just as meaningful, filled with more laughter, more stories, and more moments that remind us how lucky we are to have had her and to still have each other.

To my mom, thank you for thoughtfully taking those photos from the trip and turning them into a blanket, a heartfelt gift that captures the beauty of those cherished moments.

Right before the trip, I did a thing... I bought a boat. Not just any boat a heartbreak boat. Yep, retail therapy wasn’t cutting it, so I went all-in on a floating emotional support vessel. It wasn’t a midlife crisis purchase (yet). Think of it as an impulsive but well-intentioned life raft.

Owning a boat is a lot more responsibility than I expected. It’s basically like adopting a high-maintenance, floating pet. But the first time I got it out on the water? Something clicked. No, heartbreak doesn’t dissolve with the swipe of a credit card, but the open water has this way of loosening its grip. You realize that even when life feels heavy, you can still float and maybe laugh a little at how ridiculous it is to think, Yeah, a boat will fix this and piece me back together in a flash.

On my first outing, I stumbled upon a new friend, someone who ended up joining me on most of my boating adventures. Pure joy. As for my newfound boating skills? Let’s just say I earned some unexpected praise. Turns out, I’m a natural at captaining who knew heartbreak came with nautical talents? Shocker!!

Patricia and I went radio silent for months something I thought might last for years. But after the third month, she reached out, and I agreed to meet. At first, I was on guard, arms crossed, heart in lockdown mode. But as the evening wore on, the old connection crept back in. For a brief moment, I let my guard down until it all came rushing back, reminding me exactly why I’d built walls in the first place. Her phone quickly became the biggest trigger, a harsh reminder of the lies and dishonesty. After all this time apart, I didn’t want to see her in that light, but she just couldn’t put it down even after asking me to meet and talk. Man, I had some intense feelings for her. Honestly, they were as genuine as it gets. In the beginning, she was absolutely amazing no doubt about it.

We tried to reconnect, hang out, but life had other plans for us. Our paths have diverged hers focused on finding the perfect match. Although, she’s had a few hits and misses, she’s persistent. I respect that.

The silver lining? Her daughter gave me the best gift of all, a new nickname. From now on, it’s Short King. Forget the boat, this is the highlight of my summer. I’ve peaked, people!!!

It’ll probably be years before Patricia and I have a conversation, but that’s okay. Life keeps moving, and so do we. If our paths cross again, I hope it’s with a sense of peace and growth on both sides. We both came to the realization that we can’t be part of each other’s lives. We were always pretty goofy together, and I’ll miss that, but our connection has fulfilled its purpose. Letting go is always painful and can feel like a failure, but I suppose it's a necessary step for growth.

So, that’s the scoop, a summer of navigating grief, making new memories, and floating through heartbreak. It wasn’t the smooth, picture-perfect healing I hoped for, but it was real. And along the way, I found so many things to be grateful for, friends, family, new friends, and a deeper connection with myself.

Now, I’m ready to see what winters got up its frosty sleeve. Whatever it throws my way, I’ve got my metaphorical snow boots laced up, and probably a new pillow or two, just in case. Bring it on! I’m ready!