Just then a grey sedan drove slowly up my alley, pointed its wheels into my driveway, pulled in, and stopped. A tall gentlemen stepped out. “Hello,” he said. “I’m Richard (Secret Last Name). I grew up in this house.”
But I had already guessed as much before he said a word.
Wow, what a week. On Monday, I was overwhelmed by the personal stories of the world crashing in on so many fellow Americans—along with the wind and waves and fire and Hurricane Sandy. Americans who, days earlier, had been walking through their everyday ordinary, plain-jane lives, never suspecting the great losses that were just around the corner. Because we never do.
Wait. Wasn’t it just yesterday that my baby girl was weeks away from entering this world?
How is it possible that I am looking at colleges with her these days instead of Peter Rabbit books????
It was not an ordinary day.
But I’m thinking it’s probably all pretty normal for a season of transition. And I happen to know that shaky places like this can lead to stronger ones. Seriously, like boot camp.
I’ve been spending a lot of time lately sitting in front of windows. Mostly of the Apple-computer-screen variety, but other kinds too.
Including some of the door-closing/window-opening variety.
Where, oh where, oh where, have I been lately?? Well, at the ball fields, mostly. And when I haven’t been …
R-kids and I have been taking ourselves on a few in-town adventures lately. Like this one, to our favorite city …
Hey there, I'm Julie—
hopeless hoper,
incessant wonderer,
freelance writer,
single mom,
and hardcore INFJ.
I'm doing my best
to be short on perfection
and long on grace.
Here's to betting
on each other, friends.
xo
