We had great friends in town this weekend. When they left this evening, Nick said to me, “I fucking love Doug and Kim. They’re fucking awesome. Those are some goooooooood friends.” Can’t you just hear his voice when you read that? I couldn’t have said it better myself.
The occasion was an annual 4-day skydiving party called Chicks Rock Boogie at Skydive Elsinore. We joined them for a few hours on Friday afternoon and a few hours on Saturday afternoon. That’s about all Nick could take. What an amazing time seeing old friends from all over. Nick was warmly welcomed. Similar to the Feet for Fener party last year, Nick was constantly surrounded by friends wanting to catch up. He said it felt so good to be so loved.
Being at the dropzone, socializing and having fun for two consecutive days was such a wonderful change of pace for us. Sometimes it’s hard to swallow our new schedule of doctors appointments and therapy, errands and required rest, daily tasks of our new, more complicated life and navigating the details of Nick’s injuries. Despite our commitment to having a good attitude and trying to live a happy life in the face of a world turned upside down, we find ourselves no longer prioritizing fun the way we used to.
Life is supposed to be fun. If you’re not having fun, make what you’re doing fun. That’s how I’ve always done it. But this accident has really challenged that ideal for me. For both of us. Somehow, having fun has become a luxury we only allow ourselves once in a while. It’s a privilege. I want to change this. I’ve been told by several friends that they’re surprised we don’t spend more time at the dropzone. I’m not. I’ve got many more “important” things to do.
But how come having fun can’t be important again? It can be. And eventually, it will be.
