Right now I am living a for the weekends. The weekdays are nothing more or less than the gap between the weekends.
I am also living a life full of ghosts, a mix of the living and the dead, of the present and the past. I have some inkling of how the nobility of the past much have felt, living a life in which you were born, raised, entered adulthood, and eventually died, all in the same building—a building in which your ancestors also did the same things.
This building, the one that I live in now, is full of ghosts, at least as full of ghosts as it is of the living. Ghosts of people that are not longer with us, sure, but also the ghosts of our former selves and of years of the hopes and dreams of a small family that, in its previous form, no longer exists.
In its place, a new family, similar in appearance, but with significant improvements and also some new drawbacks and failings, lives instead. Right now, they split their time between this place and another, and it is at the other place, on weekends, when they are free of ghosts.
When they do not have to be haunted.
— § —
How did we get so lucky as to be here, in the state that we are in? Others have experienced and suffered far less, yet were unable despite much work and many dollars spent, to find the redemption and the love that we are increasingly finding.
I feel grateful. And lucky. And somehow chosen.
You could easily say that our story is an example of the way in which love does not actually “conquer all.”
But you could easily say that our story is also an example of the way in which love does.
Despite difficulties and a long road ahead, we are in a good place. It is a good place to be.
— § —
Happy end-of-birthday to my wife, whom I love.