When Everyone Brings Their Own Weather

My son got engaged this weekend!

That sentence sounds simple enough, but the weekend leading up to it was anything but.

Months ago, we planned a dual family getaway to Kentucky with my son, Richie's girlfriend's family. ( That was inspired by her brother's wedding in a villa in Italy which inspired a yoga retreat at that very villa, hosted by me and the studio I worked for.) The idea was simple: spend time together, enjoy a beautiful property—similar to the Italian villa, and relax. Somewhere along the way, my son quietly informed us that if everything worked out, he planned to propose to his girlfriend while we were there.

And so the secret began.

Her family was coming. Our family was coming. Grandparents, parents, siblings, cousins, an aunt, a dog, and enough personalities to fill a small town.

The plan was perfect.

Which, of course, is usually when life decides to test you.

While we were driving to Kentucky, we received a message from Airbnb.

The property reservation had been canceled.

Not next week.

Not tomorrow.

Right then.

As we were already on the road.

For a few moments, everyone scrambled. Text messages flew. Phone calls happened. Plans shifted. Thankfully, Airbnb stepped up and quickly provided several alternatives. While driving down the highway, we compared listings, checked amenities, and somehow managed to secure another beautiful property that could accommodate our entire group.

Crisis averted.

Or so we thought.

Upon arrival, there were issues getting into the house.

Then the ice maker flooded.

Then there were plumbing problems.

Then more plumbing problems.

The host was responsive and helpful(we loved our stay despite these normal household issues), but the timing couldn’t have been worse. People were trying to shower, get ready, and prepare for what was secretly the most important event of the weekend.

Meanwhile, my future daughter-in-law still believed she was getting dressed for derby-style family photos.

The proposal itself was supposed to happen at the original property—the beautiful estate that had canceled our reservation. The host had casually mentioned we could still use the place for pictures, but there was never a final confirmation that we could actually be on the grounds.

As the photographer headed toward the location, we collectively made a decision.

We’re doing this.

Sometimes you don’t get certainty.

Sometimes you just get a moment and the choice to trust it.

Thankfully, aside from some minor scary moments, it worked.

Perfectly.

It was beautiful.

She was surprised.

She said yes.

There were tears, hugs, photos, and the kind of happiness that makes every inconvenience instantly feel smaller.

Back at the rental house, the plumbing reminded us it wasn’t quite finished with us yet.

Everyone played board games while waiting for the host/plumber.

Later that evening, the host had to shop-vacuum water from the basement somewhere around midnight while people, who needed to catch an early flight, attempted to sleep.

If someone had handed me that list of events before the trip, I probably would have predicted disaster.

Instead, it became one of the most beautiful weekends I’ve experienced.

What fascinated me most wasn’t the string of mishaps. It was watching how differently people responded to them.

Some people immediately started solving problems.

Some needed to talk through every possibility.

Some worried.

Some laughed.

Some complained. (me too..a little.)

Some stayed remarkably calm.

Nobody was wrong.

Nobody was difficult.

Everyone was simply being human.

Processing.

When enough people gather together, you don’t just bring luggage.

You bring experiences.

You bring fears.

You bring coping mechanisms.

You bring communication styles.

You bring personalities.

You bring weather.

And for someone like me, that can be overwhelming.

I’ve spent decades working closely with people as a hairstylist, fitness coach, and yoga teacher. Somewhere along the way, I became very aware of other people’s emotions.

Sometimes too aware.

As the weekend unfolded, I found myself absorbing the energy around me. Anxiety, excitement, frustration, anticipation, relief—it all seemed to blend together until I wasn’t entirely sure which feelings belonged to me anymore.

At one point, I found myself retreating to a bedroom for a while.

Not because I wasn’t enjoying myself.

I was!

I just needed a different vantage point.

A quieter place to recalibrate.

To sort through what was mine and what wasn’t.

Once I did, I was able to sit back and watch.

And what I saw was beautiful.

Families getting to know each other.

My sons laughing together.

My mom chatting with anyone willing to listen.

People helping where they could.

Everyone adapting.

Everyone showing up in their own way.

The best way.

There were a few potentially awkward moments that naturally happen when large families come together, but what stood out to me was how gracefully everyone handled them. Different personalities. Different perspectives. Different ways of navigating stress.

The goal was never perfection.

The goal was connection.

And we got that.

As the weekend came to an end, I did something I’ve become much more comfortable doing as I’ve gotten older.

I performed an Irish goodbye.

I slipped out a little earlier than planned.

I just left a text.

And a fresh pot of coffee because thats my love language.

Years ago, I might have worried that it looked rude or antisocial.

Now I recognize it as self-awareness.

My social battery was full.

My heart was full.

The memories were made.

I didn’t need one more conversation or one more hour to make the weekend meaningful.

The truth is, life rarely unfolds the way we planned it.

Reservations get canceled.

Things break.

People react differently than we would.

Unexpected problems show up at the worst possible times.

And yet, somehow, the moments that matter still happen.

Maybe that’s the lesson.

Perfect memories don’t require perfect circumstances.

Sometimes they happen in the middle of flooded ice makers, plumbing disasters, last-minute decisions, and a house full of people all carrying their own weather.

-And when needed, carrying each other.

-And somehow, despite all of it, everything works out...

Perfectly.