Front Yard People

As I get older, I am finding that I have a deeper kind of craving. One that is so much more than a spicy margarita (although good) or a burger that is made just right (fried egg on top, please).

It’s a craving of people and connecting and laughing until my side hurts. And most importantly, being known and loved despite all my flaws and failures.

I crave this.

Deeper than I ever have.

So I have decided we will become front yard people.

It was a perfectly good decision to eat our charcuterie end-of-the-week, what-is-in-the-fridge platter of food on our back porch. I have well curated furniture, shade and even plush seats. But I don’t crave the shade like I do people, so I opted for a worn-out blanket and an old side table that I’ve been meaning to take to Goodwill for our front yard picnic.

My husband thought I was crazy.

We turned on some tunes and lounged in the sun. We waved at the cars and I even did a headstand right there in my front yard.

Feeling alive makes you do wild and crazy things.

After our tummies were full, we each perched on the blanket, staring at a cloudless sky, talking about our favorite parts of the day and soaking in one another. Each of us slowly discovering we enjoy being front yard people.

Although we didn’t connect with any new neighbors, we took a step toward them. And in doing so, we connected as a family. We looked at one another in the eyes over paper plates and that old blanket. We talked about the silliness of mozzarella cheese and why we all loved hummus so much. We gobbled crackers and cut up American cheese and we laughed.

Known. Seen. Loved.

We could have chosen our back porch, but I think there is magic in becoming front yard people. I can’t wait to explore it more.