Namaste

I went to yoga this morning- a 90 minute "Gentle Hatha" class, with a friend. It was exactly what I needed- some core work, a lot of stretching, and a lot of thinking and centering and clearing my mind in an effort to not think at all.

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My dad was in a serious car accident in Germany on Friday. He was there for business and was on his way to the airport in Munich when his taxi (going 90 mph on the autobahn in the rain) hit an abandoned, stationary vehicle at full speed. He was wearing his seat belt, but was knocked unconscious and has a broken sternum, several broken ribs, and purple bruises all over his body. He came to with a medical team working over him, speaking in rapid German, and the pain in his chest was so sharp (from the broken sternum, we know now) that he believed his heart had been pierced and he was going to die. By the time my mom was informed and then she told us, we knew that wasn't true- that he was going to be okay, even if we weren't sure when he'd be able to fly home, so I took the news calmly, glad that my mom was already booked on a flight out there. But an hour later, in the parking garage of my building at work, as I fully realized what had happened and how bad it could have been- I started crying. My dad is 55. I know that in the natural order of things he will predecease me, but not fucking yet. I hate even thinking of what could have been and how devastating that 4 a.m. phone call could have been. So I'm not. I'm just thankful -- thankful that he will heal, thankful that my mom is there with him, thankful that his company has handled all the logistics and payments for both of them, thankful that we have so many wonderful friends and family who have emailed and texted him across an ocean to let him know he's loved. Thankful for the English-speaking doctor in the ambulance who held my dad's hand the entire ride to the hospital, reassuring him through the haze of shock and pain that he was going to be okay. And while I can't quite be thankful for the reminder of how quickly life can change, I'm aware of it, and I can be thankful for all the love my dad and I have shared over the last 28 years and even more thankful for the love we'll get to continue to share for what better be at least 40 years more.

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Last night JP and I went on a date. We were supposed to do dinner and a movie at Alamo Drafthouse, but when we got there 30 minutes before showtime, everything was sold out. We go to the movies so rarely, we were honestly shocked to see that so many other people happened to be out on the same night we were. Then we remembered that seeing a movie didn't used to be something we thought of as a once-a-year treat. So, not wanting to waste a booked night of babysitting, we went out for a long dinner instead- appetizers, entrees, dessert, not rearranging the table so everything was out of Claire's reach- decadence! And while we love being with the kids and rarely feel any need to get out just the two of us, it was awfully nice to linger over a Mexican martini and talk idly with the person I love most in the world. JP is my soul mate and the love of my life. He has 10 years of my past and all of my future. He's my partner, my heart, the father of my children, and the only one who knows every facet of my being and loves- or at least accepts- them all. I love him completely, but there's nothing like a dinner spent laughing and talking about nothing to remind me of how terribly much I like him. Date nights are great for that.

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I'm about to take the dogs on a run and do laundry and prepare the week's meals and do a bunch of other mundane Sunday chores, and I don't know if it's the wake of my dad's accident, or the yoga, or my happy night out last night, but I feel light. Light and profoundly thankful.

I'm doing the yoga again next Sunday.