You are a welcoming back from the ocean.

It was a great long weekend with friends-who-are-really-family. Much fun was had eating, drinking, laughing, playing, and just generally enjoying each other’s company. We played dominoes. We played cards. We played board games. Hardly revolutionary, and yet, it was. These are things you don’t get to do much of when you live alone. In fact, they’re things you don’t really even think about when you’re reading, writing, or watching tv in your carefully preserved solitude.

We know each other so well, and it’s a relief to spend extended periods of time in each other’s company. We share deep conversation, and communicate just as effectively without words. They ask intuitive questions; my answers cause me to consider things I haven’t considered before. Nothing need remain unspoken or under the surface. No topic is off limits.

I got to look after my “nephew,” playing games, making silly faces and noises, carrying him around, pushing his stroller. Surreal, but nice. It’s been a long time since my life has included stroller-pushing. And when I’m there doing so, if his dad’s not around, I’m continually struck by the fact that everyone we encounter assumes I’m his father. At first it was weird; now it just...is. At first I was like, “Oh god.” But now, little by little, I’m like, “Huh, maybe I can do this.” And it’s amazing to think how quickly this stage will be over. When I only get out there a couple of times a year, he’s a different person each time I see him. Six months go by, and his parents and I always seem pretty much the same. But that little guy—six months go by and he’s shed another skin; appears different and new. Kid years are like dog years. Or something.

And of course, amid all the playing and growing, time was made for the best bloody marys, good wine, good bourbon, and as ever, good food. As always, it was hard to leave. But as always, I leave with the immeasurable comfort that, as long as this family (and others like it) exists, there is untold love and support in my life. As long as this family exists, there will be no reason to drown alone in the waves.