We went to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk last night to watch the fireworks. We met one of our friends there, Annee, who's going to be Amy's doula. No matter what the weather is like, and it was cool and foggy, it's summertime in Santa Cruz and folks flock to the Boardwalk.
I felt slightly disconnected, not in a bad way or because I wasn't having a good time, because I was having a good time. I was just doing the alien anthropologist thing observing the crowds around us. Tons of people from all walks of life. Tons of children, too.
Tons of children wandering the face of the boardwalk, corn dogs, funnel cakes and slurpees in hand, smiles everywhere, some whining and crying – a millennium of life ahead of them. Parents' half-life remains beamed proudly, only to be blinded by the sudden supernova firework spectacular, and left with smoky darkness and sleepy children. (Baby B jumped and jived a little during the fireworks. Hopefully he/she wasn't too scared.)
Dang life's too short.
In the words of Neil:
When we are young
wandering the face of the earth
wondering what our dreams might be worth
learning that we're only immortal --
for a limited time.
After a good night's sleep I awoke to a wonderful brunch of blueberry waffles and bacon and a gift – matching father and infant shirts – "My Daddy Rocks" and "My Kid Rocks"!
Nice. Thanks Mama A!
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