get your shama on

Estimated read time: 2.5 minutes

One of my favorite sensations in the world is lying on a beach, surrounded by loved ones and strangers and birds and a big stretch of blue as far as the eye can see. It’s sublime to close your eyes and lie horizontal on the sand, pretending to be asleep so no one talks to you. This way, you can lie there in peace and enjoy the show from the audience, one ear tethered to the earth, the other one with the wind.

I love listening to my best friends talk to each other and giggle and sigh and provide commentary on the pigeon who just stole a cheese curl out of the hand of a teenager dressed from head to toe in maroon.

The symphony of sounds is so surreal and so pure: crescendos of waves crashing, seagulls singing and swooping, strangers laughing and hollering as the volleyball goes woosh. I often think I could die right there on the soft sand because I’m so darn happy, but that would really put a damper on the day for my pals.

This past weekend I was lucky enough to touch the silky sand of Ohio Street Beach in Chicago, a glorious display of Lake Michigan and the bizarre (but beautiful) miracle of a truly delightful beach shaking hands with a bustling metropolitan.

Why was I in Chicago? To celebrate the 30th rotation around the sun of dear friend, life mentor, and founder of Berning Clam herself: Shannon Kelly. Shannon invited a hefty handful of comrades to join her in Chicago to be merry and eat cake. And did we deliver!

Like a pack of golden retriever puppies released from their cage, we tore through downtown Chicago with glee, tails a-wagging and energy: boundless. We poured glitter in the sidewalk cracks so that rainbows could grow, untethered by hate or high fences. We created a rambunctious cheer that will live in Wrigley Field for decades to come, a time capsule to be opened at Shannon’s 60th, and took turns on the steep blue water slide attached to the boat we inhabited for all of Saturday afternoon. Bliss.

On my final morning in Chicago, I awoke first in our hotel room. Surrounded by some of my favorite people’s rhythmic breathing, I lay in bed smiling, wondering what dreams were pirouetting through their enchanting minds. Deep in slumber or wide awake, my friends are the most intelligent, kind, whimsical and drop-dead gorgeous people I have ever met. Fact.

When I’m on my deathbed, I know it is memories like these that will live at the top of my head, covering the pain and the cracks below. I may be alone somewhere, EKG machine keeping the tempo steady, florescent lights glaring above me. And yet, I’ll remember weekends like Chicagopalooza.

The tears will fall with thick and deep gratitude, as the mystery remains of how I got so lucky. With each tear, I can recall a hug and a joyful squeal and a dance and a grin and a spin with you and you and you. A hand squeeze and a wink. For all of you!

There is nothing to fear, for I have loved with all my heart in every way you can love, and I do believe a good chunk of that love was thrown back at my freckled face. And when your heart feels like it could burst and you have nothing left to say, well then, it’s time to get your shama on.

We love you Shannon. So, so much.