Roots, Resilience, and the Time We Still Have

Just hours after our return, with jetlag lingering and suitcases still half-unpacked, I find myself replaying the moments that shaped this trip.

After 19 days spanning the Azores, mainland Portugal, and London, with moments that took us from ancient family bakeries to late-night theater seats, this wasn’t just a vacation. It was a pilgrimage of connection, reflection, and showing up.

From the moment we left Monterey with bags piled high and hearts wide open, this journey was never about miles traveled or sites checked off a list. It became a collection of moments, stitched together by love, history, patience, presence, and community.

We stood where our ancestors stood. We laughed through the chaos of the Lisbon airport and overcame food poisoning. We teared up during Mass at Fátima and again in theater seats as West End stories unfolded before us. And as if the universe wasn’t quite done with its lesson plan, within a single day of landing back in California after 19 days away, we found ourselves marching in the Monterey Peninsula Pride Parade with fellow progressives. My family walked beside me, showing up for love, visibility, and inclusion.

The kid I used to be, the closeted and lonely one who dreamed of belonging, could never have imagined this.

And now, here we are. Living it.

Honoring Where We Come From

The Azores welcomed us with open arms and a generous supply of pastries. In Capelas, my grandfather’s hometown, we stood in front of the family bakery where he worked before leaving for the United States at age 21. Cousins we’d never met pulled us in like lifelong friends. They served birthday cake, gave garden tours, and shared stories that stretched across generations.

At the Museum of Azorean Immigration, we learned how the first Portuguese festas in California started just miles from where we now live. At Fátima, my mom wiped away tears as we lit candles and whispered prayers for the living and the departed.

These weren’t just tourist stops. They were sacred ground . Proof that our family story didn’t start with us, and it won’t end with us either.

Staying Present Through the Chaos

Of course, it wasn’t all slow-motion movie moments.

There were crowded airports and stressful travel days. Food poisoning knocked me flat for a full day. There were bathroom negotiations in Airbnbs and long walks on tired feet through 15,000-step days.

But even in the midst of the chaos, beauty remained present.

It was there in my mom laughing as she dipped into a hot spring, her first time entering water in over 40 years.

It was there in my nieces' wide eyes at the immersive circus experience in London.

It was there in late-night port toasts by the river in Porto, and in the collective exhale we all took after surviving the Lisbon airport.

It was there in the tears we shared as The Curious Case of Benjamin Button: The Musical reminded us that time is fleeting, but moments are ours to keep.

As an old Cornish lyric from the show reminds us, "Time and tide wait for no one."

But in between the rushing tides of airports and schedules, we found moments that will stay with us forever.

The Full-Circle Moment: Pride

And then came Pride.

Less than 24 hours after landing, still disoriented from the time change and travel, my family and I woke up early and headed downtown to march in the Pride Parade with our local Democratic club.

Coming off a trip where we celebrated family history, reckoned with our roots, and were reminded again and again of how fragile and beautiful time is, this felt like the perfect next chapter.

With rainbow flags waving and chants for love echoing down the street, I walked beside my family, the family I once feared might never stand with me at an event like this.

Seeing them not just attend but march proudly beside me felt like love in action. Advocacy in action. Healing in action.

It was the kind of day that teenage me, unsure if belonging was even possible, could have only dreamed of.

And yet, here we are.

Looking Ahead: The Life We’re Still Writing

As I sit with it all, the history, the heartbreaks, the laughter, the presence, and the parade, I keep coming back to that line from Benjamin Button:

“For a life is but the sum of all its parts

A memory of moments in our hearts

There’s still time

We still have time.”

We stood where our ancestors stood, but we are also standing at the start of new chapters.

Honoring our roots doesn’t mean staying stuck in them.

It means learning from them, drawing strength from them, and forging ahead. We are writing new stories, creating new moments, and making the most of the time we still have.

Because none of us is guaranteed unlimited time, but we are assured this moment.

This laugh.

This connection.

This opportunity to show up.

Writing Your Next Chapter

As you reflect on your own journey, whether you’ve just returned from a trip or are simply moving through daily life, consider:

• Where can I pause and be more present, even in life’s messy, imperfect moments?

  
  

• What family stories, roots, or histories am I being called to honor or explore more deeply?

  
  

• Where am I being called to show up more boldly for myself and for others?

  
  

• What is one small action I can take this week to live more fully and authentically?

  
  

Anchoring Your Moments

Before the day ends, or before your next chapter begins, try this:

Gather Three Objects: Choose three small items that represent recent moments of joy, courage, or connection. A photo, a stone, a ticket stub, a prize ribbon—whatever holds meaning for you.

Name the Moment: For each, write one sentence about why that moment mattered.

Create Your Anchor: Place these items somewhere visible—a shelf, a jar, a small box—so when life feels overwhelming, you can glance over and remember: You’ve lived beautiful, brave, and meaningful moments before.

And you will live many more again.

Final Thought

This trip, this parade, this chapter—they have all reminded me:

Life isn’t about perfect plans or grand milestones.

It’s about the laughter in a cramped terminal. The tears in a pew at Fátima. The applause after a West End show. The pride of walking with your family down the streets of your hometown, claiming space for love, visibility, and belonging.

We still have time.

To love.

To create.

To show up.

To live.

Let’s make the most of it.