Milestones
I meant to write this post yesterday.
Yesterday was the second anniversary of this blog, eight words I never imagined writing (even after I found out what the eighth one meant).
It was also the one-month anniversary of my father's death, more words I never imagined writing.
At the moment, I'm sitting on my couch, in the middle of my living room, surrounded by chaos. Zach and I have been cleaning and sorting and purging and packing and shredding and lugging for the past couple of days, trying to make some headway on the project we call our life.
We have lived here for five years—by far our longest stretch in any home—and in many ways it still looks as if we just moved in and haven't yet had time to unpack. The whole place is in medias res.
We are making good progress, even though we're at the point where things look worse than when we started. The disarray is arrayed all over the place, everything deconstructed into temporary piles until we impose some kind of order.
That is how life has felt these past two years—temporary and discombobulated.
Ramshackle.
Out of control.
Unsettled.
With one exception.
This blog has been a constant in a life full of variables.
And it wouldn't exist without you.
Thank you for spending this time with me.
You have been wonderful company.
Yesterday was the second anniversary of this blog, eight words I never imagined writing (even after I found out what the eighth one meant).
It was also the one-month anniversary of my father's death, more words I never imagined writing.
At the moment, I'm sitting on my couch, in the middle of my living room, surrounded by chaos. Zach and I have been cleaning and sorting and purging and packing and shredding and lugging for the past couple of days, trying to make some headway on the project we call our life.
We have lived here for five years—by far our longest stretch in any home—and in many ways it still looks as if we just moved in and haven't yet had time to unpack. The whole place is in medias res.
We are making good progress, even though we're at the point where things look worse than when we started. The disarray is arrayed all over the place, everything deconstructed into temporary piles until we impose some kind of order.
That is how life has felt these past two years—temporary and discombobulated.
Ramshackle.
Out of control.
Unsettled.
With one exception.
This blog has been a constant in a life full of variables.
And it wouldn't exist without you.
Thank you for spending this time with me.
You have been wonderful company.
posted by Jody Rosen Knower at 8:46 PM
2 Comments:
I can literally see the space you're describing Jody. Good look with the array.
-- Marci
No, thank YOU for taking the time to share so much of your lives. I've always been impressed by your determined commitment to this blog. I know I would have just said "I'm too tired" and let it go. I'm glad you've kept it up-- I imagine it must be a treasured record for you both.
Love,
Torre
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