sleeping Awake

Dear J-

Surely by now we’re on the short side of the year, nearly closer to Christmas than New Year’s Day. That is a function of the calendar and the inevitable result of sleeping now and again, finding rest and peace in continuous fashion. We have day trips on the mind, this while the week stretches on (only four days this time) and there’s still so much work to be done, contacts to groom, stays to tame. The inevitable slow accumulation of days keeps a simple tally of where we’re all going in the end, the other great inevitability beyond taxes. Well, that just took a morbid turn. How did we get here already? I’m not ready, I think, to see my nephew, who was born a month after I got married, and see the passage of years so illustrated.

I think I’ve remarked before on how unlikely this feels, how the years we’ve now spent out of high school exceed those spent in, how a whole lifetime of adulthood has changed us all (hopefully for the better) over the people we were then. We’ve been married long enough to have potentially raised a teenager by now; I’m also amazed to think that now we’ve had more years married with kids than married without. How does this happen? Who did we let this happen for? How have we changed and why does it matter, in the end? I like who we are now, that’s what’s important instead of documenting every wrinkle of life between now and then.

It’s strange enough to document the technology I’ve used to write this blog; I started with a dual-Xeon workstation hooked up to a 16″ CRT and now there’s possibly more computing power in my left pocket, to say nothing of the right. We have no idea what the next five years will hold, let alone ten or twenty or the next lifetime. Roll with the changes and don’t obsess over the history, though we seem to be having a fine time documenting it together. figgy asked me the other day why I take so many photos (more than ten thousand on flickr, of various quality and demonstrated ability) and my answer was so I wouldn’t forget, though of course I hardly think that possible. Yeah, life.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: