A few days ago we woke to hear the news of a horrific massacre at a movie theatre not far from our house in Denver. It was 6:30am and Facebook was awash with the horror. I first texted my sister because she’s the only one I know who would go to a midnight movie, and then I responded to the flood of messages from friends who somehow thought that I would go to a midnight movie premiere of Batman. We sat through the day as the news trickled in of the incident, and more than once I felt relieved that we were leaving Denver. And then I read that this maniac kid grew up in San Diego. And suddenly my little security blanket was ripped away, and I realized that we can placate ourselves as much as possible, but the reality is that one can never be completely protected. I’ve lived this only too well since my sister was the most severely injured person in a 1999 bomb blast in Camps Bay, Cape Town, an idyllic little town where we all thought we were perfectly safe.
And so, as we pack up our little family, and move to the enclave of Rancho Santa Fe, I’m going to envelop my kids in courage and embrace them with never-ending love, and I’m going to make sure that each and every day ends on a good note and with blessings and the understanding that although we might never be safe, we can choose to be happy as much and as often as humanly possible.
On Friday we took the afternoon off work and went bowling with the kids. That’s living the good life as frequently and enthusiastically as possible. Strike!