Paul and I took a trip down to South Padre Island to visit my aunt and spend some time at the beach. It was fun and relaxing. Paul got to go scuba diving into some sunken ship on the bottom of the ocean floor, 1.5 hours away from the coast. He loved it. I just tried to not panic on land while waiting to hear of his return. It's a hobby that he loves and one that I support, because it results in me reading books on pretty beaches while he explores the world underwater. My anxiety is a small price to pay for the privilege.
On the way down, we drove through my hometown and neighborhood (Corpus Christi). It was...hard, surprisingly. I got very emotional for some reason. I knew I grew up in a challenging environment, but going back to the neighborhood and seeing the home I lived in, it's state, the state of my neighbor's homes and roofs and windows (or lack thereof) was just...hard. That shack houses a lot of memories, both good and bad. It was a little overwhelming to feel them all wash over me at once.
I woke up today feeling very lucky and fortunate. I've worked hard, it's true. But I am no fool. I know that I have certainly been helped by luck. I am very grateful.