White Sand Beaches

“The fact of death is unsettling. Yet there is no other way to live.” 

-Paul Kalanithi, When Breath Becomes Air

50 years. A big one healthy and alive. Sitting on a white sand beach with a cold beer in one hand and a passionfruit in the other. The four of us sitting in the middle of no where on a island, just enjoying each other. This was the way that my dad celebrated -- surrounded by his family. If it wasn’t passionfruits and white sand beaches, it was cheese fondue with endless amounts of bread and German schnapps. He made birthdays a big deal for us. Each of us got a whole week. 

5 years later. Peacefully at ease, no longer in pain. In five years you went from white sand beaches, to reaching the end of your life. The idea of death never scared my dad. He was thankful to be alive. He liked growing older, for greater freedom.

Mama and I are sitting at a cozy little restaurant on the day that would have been your birthday. We order the same thing you would have: burgers and fries. Always your go to at Almond. We talk about the mountains of cheese fondue, the only meal you were able to cook. You always had this very beautiful way of bringing people together. You built a community that still stands, even after you passed. It will always be your birthday. We will always celebrate the life you lived. Happy birthday. Here’s to another year older,  wiser, and more peaceful than ever.