keeping the lights up.

Things I’ll remember from this week:

  • Blistering heat and humidity
  • Stranger Things and thunderstorms
  • Matt’s plantation punch in my new water goblets
  • A surprise orchid of the most beautiful purple hue
  • My fried green tomatoes, a big hit at Sunday dinner with the family
  • Date night at Metzger, with the ratatouille that disappeared too quickly
  • Post-work swimming with happy, screeching Morella in her blue one-piece and her floaty
  • During the chaos of another Tuesday playdate, sitting quietly with a newborn neighbor in my arms
  • Bicycling peacefully along the riverfront with Morella yelling from the baby bike seat for another pouch
  • Clacking away on my laptop at the kitchen table while Matt doodles in his sketchbook on the couch, listening to Night Vale
  • Morella saying “How about The Diggingest Dog or Because a Little Bug Went Ka-Choo? We haven’t read these in a while.” Even though we have in fact read litchrally those exact two books, every single night for the past several weeks.

retracing steps.

“Tell me how you two got together!” Such a simple request, the politest and most typical of girlfriendly queries, and yet it hit me heavily, blankly, like a Trivial Pursuit card about some event from the 1970s you’ve never even heard of. And it does all seem so absurd and unlikely and hazy in my head. How do you manage to tell a concise, chronological story about something that’s more like a mix of related but vastly different fireworks going off in your heart than real events that occurred? How can you possibly lay it all out in an orderly fashion? This thing that didn’t really “happen” per se, but more washed over you. It’s hard to retrace your steps when you look back and the path itself has changed, like so many Hogwarts staircases.

So when you can’t write or think very coherently, you just list the things you do know, Bella Swan style. Continue reading