The end of a certain part of family history, that is . . .
Today TRQ told me and my sister-in-law Becky over lunch that the nuns' house where we have stayed for years on Capistrano Beach is being sold. We'll never stay there with our families again. And the truth is that whoever is buying it will tear it down and build a Kardashian-type home.
The funny thing is that the whole time we were there this summer, I had the strongest feeling that this would likely be our last time in that house together, which made me deeply sad. Because you know that's how I like to do sad. Deeply.
As it turned out, we didn't have enough beds, so I spent most of the week sleeping in the courtyard under the stars, listening to surf pound beneath a waxy moon. I let the all of it--the sounds, the smells, the sights-- settle in my pores so I could remember.
All good things must.