Hats Off

Tonight, I’ll watch G graduate from Junior High.

13 years ago, we were poor (in a hand-to-mouth way) and living in West Hollywood at the corner of Crescent and Sunset between a McDonald’s and a Zen Buddhist Center.

I was making money freelancing in Boulder, Colorado, and at a place out in Venice Beach. We ate well and friends who had more came over to enjoy barbecue and homemade mac and cheese.

We lived on expectations and friendliness.

We were happy.

Today, we live in a Montecito bungalow and walk to the beach in our flip flops. Our Sonos plays “More than a Feeling” whenever I want. At dinner G and L debate whether or not George Lucas is a good director. They point out that the First Order helmets aren’t as good as the original Storm Trooper ones. The dog begs anyone who will pay attention to throw the frisbee.

And tonight I’ll sit in front a computer and watch my kid say go through a new door that likely means more to me than him.

We let go of a lot in the last year. We have more to let go of. And more to become.

And we are still happy.