What Matters?

We just had a low-key, luxurious week on Emerald Isle to determine some true and meaningful answers to that little, 2-word question. (And let me warn you, friends, don't let the size and seeming innocuousness of that teeny-tiny phrase catch you off guard. It's a doozy. Stacy and Molly will agree. Andi, Nicole, and Liz will find out soon enough.)

Getting to the heart of What Matters is not a task for sissies. I have the tears to prove it. (I know, I know, Jenny! Waaahh, waaahh... Somebody call that effing waaaahmbulance!)

Undoing years heaped upon years of thinking that What Matters amounts to tangible things and academic degrees and social status, however, takes some time. And some balls.

Don't get me wrong. I haven't lived my life entirely in some kind of shallow, surface existence. I know there are things in life That Matter, that Have Always Mattered, that Will Always Matter matter. My family, my friends, myself, my world.

It's letting go of the things that Don't Really Matter that proves to be a bit tougher.

We're undergoing some changes over here. By choice. By design. By intent.

But that doesn't mean change comes easy. That doesn't mean people don't question, don't assume, don't jump to conclusions.

And what, exactly, does that mean? All that external shit? It Doesn't Matter.

Chris gets it. Always has. For twenty-two years now, he's been whispering sweet nothings in my ear, guiding me gently off the pathway of crazy, calming my fears, doling out my anti-depressants. (Thank God we don't have to deal with THOSE anymore. Just raw emotion now, Baby. What you see is what you get.)

And in my heart, I get it, too.

It's my damn head that gets in the way.

What will people think? What will people say? How will we be perceived? What if NOBODY LIKES ME? (Yeah, I know. It's pathetic, really. And quite frankly, I'm a bit tired of seeking my self-worth outside of, well, myself.)

And Chris's answer...? "Who the fuck cares? We know what's true and real and right."

It's a brilliant answer, really. Especially because he believes it so wholeheartedly.

I'm getting there.

But on the road at 1:00 AM when I'm overtired and sunburned and allowing the weight of the world to descend upon my shoulders... when the numbers don't add up and the unknown looms frighteningly in the dark and The Fray is playing "Cable Car" in the background... when our last bottle of vodka has spilled all over the back seat and the kids and all their belongings smell like a redneck, honky-tonk bar... when the residual grease from our late-night Bob Evans stop is still clinging to my ponytailed hair and a bowel revolt of epic proportions is threatening to make an appearance (that's Kenshatty to you, BFF)... when the 3-hour traffic jam wears down my last remaining nerve... that's when the tears came most freely and unabashedly. And let's just say that the mountains in West Virginia are difficult to navigate through snot and saline.

But when I thought back to my sun-kissed kids on the beach and heard their laughter through the crashing Atlantic waves (cheesy, I know, but oh so true)... and I remembered dancing to bad 80's tunes in the kitchen -- red wine in hand (Jim Z. Tumbler Style) -- with some of my very oldest, truest, and best friends... and I giggled about the unfortunate golf cart incidents (yes, plural) at Spinnaker's Reach... that's when I shifted back to What Matters.

And when Chris unplugged my iPod and plugged his in and promptly began to play the YouTube clip from "Parenthood" about Grandma's version of the roller-coaster ride versus the merry-go-round ride, I began to climb off the ledge.

And this text from my sweet husband pretty much sealed the deal... (Yes, he was sitting beside me in the passenger's seat, supportive in his silence. Yes, he knows that often, it's best to just let my instability run its course.)

"No matter what happens we get to experience it together and this is all that matters to me. I love you."

And there weren't even any typos or misspellings.

God, I love him.

And I always have been fond of a good roller-coaster.