One of Our "Happy Family" Fantasies
Hi Everyone! Happy Friday!
So my husband and I have this little dream we keep talking about. The dream is to buy a hippie camper van, put a diesel engine in it (my brother owns a garage and says that it's doable; this is my husband's part of the fantasy), put surf racks on top, decorate the inside with pretty curtains and bedding in cool prints (my part of the fantasy), and then load it up on the weekends with the surfboards and kids and the dogs and us and go to the beach (in this fantasy we live somewhere on the West coast.) Sand everywhere I know, but we could totally do this, right? I just love the though of all of us making memories in our cute little camper van.
Hope everyone has a great weekend. Thanks for spending some time here this week. :)
XOXO
Image Credit: Lloyd Gallery via Etsy.
An Email to Nowhere
So I've been doing some writing about surfing over the past couple weeks, mostly about the years I surfed up in San Francisco. It's something I've been meaning to write about for years, and it's been fun to do.
Yesterday, I came across some old notes I had for the project, and found some emails from Luke, my brother who died, about how my first surfboard had gotten stolen out of the back of his truck.
I knew I had those emails, so that didn't come as a surprise. But I was really affected by seeing his email address: fedwithpunk@gmailcom. I'd forgotten about that address. It's so him.
And I've been thinking ever since about how much I want to send an email there. What happens to old email addresses when people die? Does someone else get it, like a phone nuber? Or does it just die along with the person?
I know if I sent an email I'd either get a nondeliverable message or no response. But a part of me just kind of holds out hope that somehow he'd get the message and send me something back. Crazy, I know.
I want an email from him so bad. Sucks that it's never going to happen.
And now I'm all teary. Stupid pregnancy hormones...I've been crying at everything lately...
XOXO