1 hour away

Growing up in San Diego, with my family nearby, should have made it easier to see them often, but that hasn't been the case since I returned. Even though I'm now physically closer than before, it still feels like there's a distance between us. Recently, I spent a day with my parents, where I choose to do nothing but clean my van and sit outside with my mom. I eagerly accompany her on any errands, whether it's to the bank or Costco. I strive to be fully present during these moments, understanding that one can never know when it might be the last stroll down grocery aisles with a parent. As a child, I dreaded these errands, but now, I realize these times are what I value most.

I recently met with an older friend, and we got into the top of Death and our parents over coffee at Panera. He shared how he still feels a profound sense of loss years after his mother's passing. It left him with an unfillable void, yet he's learned to manage it. He mentioned how simple things, like lying in bed, remind him of memories with his mother. He confided that of all the losses he's experienced, his mother's death had the most devastating and lasting impact on him. I really felt a huge sense of appreciation for him sharing that because it’s a honest feeling and id assume a difficult one to express. It's a pain that never really leaves. He explained how these memories, both profound yet random form a fusion of his mother's life, still being shaped by his mothers life to this day. He advised me to cherish every moment, even the most ordinary ones, as these are the memories that will resonate the most in the years to come. This conversation has stayed with me, growing my appreciation for the time I spend with my own parents. It's a sad reminder that our relationships, no matter how routine they may seem, are a true foundational piece of our lives. So, I savor every trip to Costco, every drive around town, understanding that these are not just errands, but moments that I will look back on and remember.