Yesterday, I accidentally released a post I hadn’t quite finished, so I hurriedly and embarrassedly deleted it, but I would still like to visit the topic. Because yesterday last year, October 3rd, was the day we finally got to Ohio and could take a breath.
I found an old post I had written about making God laugh (by making plans, as the quote tell us.) When I wrote that, we had just decided to move to Seattle. I remember the feeling of the time so well. Wee One was probably a month old and I was so very shaky, both physically and metaphorically.
What happens when life goes on?
In the movie Say Anything, the protagonists’ best friend talks to him the morning after their graduation party, and she greets him, voice quivering, with: “Well, I’m single now. Everything’s changed. I hate it.”
That’s how I want to greet you today:
If we were having coffee, I would talk to you about headaches I’ve been waking up with because I have a lot I’m thinking about. It’s like the weight of your thoughts literally feel like a weight; has that happened to you?
If we were having coffee, it would be quick and outside. The Wee One is with me, rather than with her father, like normal. Since today is Father’s Day, I’m letting Cohiba sleep in rather than doing it myself before we go out. Is that counter to what would seem logical? It works for us. Wee One is taking small sweet steps around the concrete wall, and I can hear her little moccasins tap on the pavement.