I learn from millennials

She left home bright and early, posting boomerangs on her insta story, because every instant of millennial life must be recorded, either by themselves or, to be fair, reposted by a besotted baby boomer who blogs. I am in awe of her, the way she powers through. Her event went "so well," she said, with her walking on tiptoe in the one pair of work sandals that didn't press against her wounds.

After she got home last night, my niece Dani and I took her all the waterproof wound and bandage covering options we'd come up with for her, in consultation with a lovely bodhisattva pharmacist, the same one who offered me such solace back when my man was facing open heart surgery two years ago now. Last night, Dani offered to pack for her cousin. "I'm an excellent packer," she said. "I have methods." My daughter was on the couch with her foot elevated, working on an involved email for her job that had to be sent before she could travel. Next to her, Dani sat meditatively folding and packing Mari Kondo style all the clothes and bachelorette party items laid out on the carpet staging area—to my daughter's eternal gratitude. Cousins, man. My kids and I are so blessed with them.

Meanwhile in Cancun, my other niece, the bride, is already having fun with three early arriving members of the bridal party, her best friends from high school. They are posting pictures like these:

I think these millennials are on to something with their recently adopted tradition of kicking up their heels on celebratory pre-wedding getaways with their besties—if they have the resources, of course. Yet even when they don't, I've noticed they somehow know you have to seize life by the cojonas and make your joy where you can.