Year Three

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Again, we unknowingly planned a getaway my dad would have loved on the third anniversary of losing him. It's become kind of funny, actually, that we subconsciously do or see something he would have enjoyed so much. This year it was Shania.

Always so handsome, so composed, so outdoorsy.

We missed Shania in Seattle because we were on vacation in Florida. She kept saying it was her farewell tour, so Raz obliged and got us tickets to see her in San Diego for my birthday month. Much to my excitement and extreme fangirling, he got us VIP tickets that came with some weird reusable tote bags, VIP tags, a poster of Shania and two photo books. I felt special and only slightly jipped—I hear VIP tickets to Kenny Chesney and Katy Perry came with BEACH TOWELS. I will get my celeb beach towel one day. Maybe it wasn't meant to be. In the meantime, my Shania bags have taken a few trips to Safeway and held a change of clothes after the boys golfed all day and came to hang out with the girls and eat pizza and watch football. We're getting our use out of them. 
She was tiny like my mom and RIGHT THERE. Unlike my mom, her nails were left unpainted. I didn't even judge.

We jumped and bopped and squealed (okay, maybe just I squealed...) and drank 25 oz beers (an extra ounce!) and it was life-affirming. Shania even swung around our heads on a saddle contraption in the sky. I was beside myself. 



And afterward, we ate and I made Raz girl-talk with me all about it. 
Can't go to SoCal without hitting In-N-Out.

We also rode cruiser bikes and ate Cali burritos and said hi to Dennis Rodman when he randomly showed up at our hotel at the same time we did after Shania. It was weird and incredible all at once. 
Out there doin' mah thang. 
I don't know what to say about it all. It's always hard. It's always weird. It's always kind of...gnawing. But it's also eye-opening and soul-deepening, and motivating. We may still have some sad and unfortunate family awkwardness, and we may be a little broken sometimes, but we're all coping the way we know how.

No matter what, though, I carry him everywhere, and I get to see his little winks. It's small, but it's something. And boy does it feel big when it's happening.

Also, I got to have a great time in San Diego with my husbro, Shania, and Dennis Rodman. Who gets to say that?

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