Yesterday was hard. Last month was hard. Last year was hard … and in the midst of the hard there was joy, ease and light. Before the funeral, there was a wedding. Before the election chaos, there was the grace of reconnecting in a powerful way with family. While the pandemic raged, a grandchild was born. Through it all ran a heightened sense of who matters and what’s really important.

As things escalated throughout the day, month and year we’ve just been through, my “people” chimed in … a friend texted, a daughter called, I reached out to two fast friends, a FB group chat proved to be a safe place to be scared, to be supportive, to be hopeful, to be pissed … to just be.

These are my people. My tribe. The ones I resonate with. They don’t all know each other (our tribe members have tribes of their own; it’s more a Venn diagram of the best people in your life all intersecting in your heart and soul).

Today the chaos is quieter, yet the uncertainty and the unthinkable lurk right around the corner. So does my tribe. I’m keeping them.

If you have any doubt who’s there for you, who you can lean on when it really matters, you won’t find them by scrolling on FB or Twitter. You’ll find them in your DMs, your chat strings, your text messages, your phone logs, your mailbox, on your front porch when things get hard and when things are joyous.

These are your tribe.

These are the keepers.

These are the ones I’ll never let go.