I was reviewing this week's schedule of activities and plans on my calendar with the Hubster: four pickleball sessions, a boat ride, Girls Night Out, our son's birthday dinner at a Mexican restaurant, a weekend beach house trek with my sisters & cousins, and 2 bridal showers ... when a sliver of sarcasm leaked out of him, to the murmur of "Life is just a party with you."
Damn skippy life is a party! And why not? We are here! We are now! We are alive! We are breathing! We are vibrant, healthy, blessed, free, faithful, grateful ... with a diversified list of activities to choose from and a pile of people we adore with whom to laugh! Hell yes, I am going to enjoy life! Show me the party and I'm there.
I reminded Hubs that three of our four parents have died, as well as my best childhood friend Dragonfly Debbie at only age 56; plus some of his baseball friends. We have raised four kids, worked hard in our many roles, were/are dutiful children to our parents, contributed to the community, and live in the beautiful states of Maryland and sunny Florida.
Why shouldn't life be a party???
In 2016, as I wrote thank you notes to family & friends after my Papà Louie died, I tucked into each envelope a colorful label I had created and printed on my computer ... it read LIVE LOUD FOR LOUIE! (My kids still have those signs stuck to the visors in their cars. I like to think a few others who loved my dad still have it tucked or displayed somewhere, too.)
In honor of my papà's big loud life, I wanted to encourage others to live loud, too - because he definitely did. He was a party all of himself! (For those of you reading this who knew Papà Louie, I hope you are smiling, picturing the funny character he was.)
Daddy was the guy with the lampshade on his head at gatherings - literally. He loved people and chatted to everyone, friend or stranger. He danced, he sang, he slid down the sliding board, he jumped into the waves. He made an entrance into a party - often with props. He was silly, playful, comical, goofy, personable, vocal, friendly, smiley, quite active - and LOUD. He never sat still. He messed up the punchlines to his jokes because he was laughing too hard at himself.
He took immaculate care of the house he built, pampered his pickup truck, rode his lawn tractor with pride, shuffled around his bricklayer's tools, fixed this, replaced that, tended his "tomater" garden, and did many "side jobs" for people who needed his skills.
Daddy & Mamma Gina went everywhere together in a large bunch of couples, which included some aunts & uncles and my "play" aunts & uncles (the really, really good friends of our parents who feel like family - our second sets of parents). Their "gang," as they referred to themselves, traveled on multiple cruises and vacations, went to dances, shows, the beach, lunch, dinner, the pool, bull roasts, bus trips, each other's homes and country clubs, and hosted many parties on new year's eve and just because. They were fun, they were loud, and they knew HOW TO LIVE!
It is no mystery from whom I learned to live loud ... it was absolutely Papà Louie's influence. (Quieter Mamma Gina didn't sit still much either as "cruise director," but she didn't wear lampshades.) :D
My husband can poo-poo my plethora of activities as much he wants or get weary of watching me run all over creation - think that will stop me? I am living LOUD and I am living NOW.
So, where's the party?
Snippeteers ... remember to live loud - if not in honor of the Louie in your life, then live it up for yourself. Make life a party!
