Recently we had a little gathering at our house. It was an informal get-together before a dance performance our daughter was in downtown.

As people milled about, talked in small groups, munched on the pulled pork that my wife had made, I was late coming home from work.  The village was waiting.  Grandparents, several aunties, neighbors, other friends.  Eight little kids being minded by several different adults.

I came in and got into the groove as quickly as I could.  And while I stuttered a little in the process, all the while I was thinking, “it’s great to have this group together in our house.”  It’s was great to have that particular energy of the collective, so nice to have that sort of community for our kids to grow-up inside.

This thought, this feeling comes to me pretty frequently.  I considered how blessed we are, to have a fantastic group of friends and family that care about us and want to be a part of our lives.   

Pretty soon we’re headed off with some of the same folks for what’s become an annual beach trip these last few years as the kids have gotten older.

When we get there, everything will slow down.  Screen Time will be eclipsed by Beach Time.  Schedule will be measured by the sand, water and other outdoor adventures we can get into between breakfast, lunch, dinner, and bedtime.

I don’t suspect I’ll be checking the time too often.  When the sun comes up, and when it sets will be the only real parameters of the day I’m concerned with.

I will be doing more self-checking, self reflection, too.  I’ll consider further the village of people my little family is a part of, and how fortunate we are to have that sort of quality time together with grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins.  Being together, soaking up family, enjoying every little bit of each day for what it is, and what really matters.

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