Early last week, as I started gathering my thoughts about today’s newsletter, I found myself stressing over today’s topic, or, actually, topics. The reason boils down to one word: Identity.
I’ve referred to my previous four newsletters as “storyletters”; I’ve shared personal stories rather than news or updates. For today’s newsletter, however, I decided that I wanted to change it up a bit … make it more news than story. But I had a concern. Would “changing it up” also change its identity, even though the “storyletter” identity has only been in place since January 4, 2019?
I posed this question to Dan Blank. Dan is someone whose voice on this and other creativity-related subjects is one I’ve come to listen to and respect. Besides being an author (the terrific Be The Gateway), running his own business (We Grow Media), consulting with clients each day, teaching online courses, and devoting time to his family, Dan has his own weekly newsletter. He is all about connecting with your audience in a personal and genuine way, no matter what your creative outlet is … writing, art, performance, etc.
Dan’s response to my question allayed all of my concerns. He said: “The identity is you … you as a human being. The newsletter is a product of that.” (Thanks, Dan!)
Sooooo … with that in mind, today’s newsletter will be “newsy,” although I guess it’s all just part of “the story of my life.” This chapter can be filed under, “It’s kind of nuts to launch both a newsletter and website during the same month you close on a new house.” It all certainly makes life exciting!
My husband, Rick, and I did, indeed, recently purchase a new home. We’re not moving far, but the new place is closer to family and away from the traffic that delays our trips to see them. It’s not easy to leave our current home, proximity to neighbors & friends, and the community we’ve lived in for thirty-two years. It’s the home where we raised our two children; celebrated birthdays and holidays; mourned loved ones; yelled a little and laughed a lot. We’ve lived thirty-two years of our lives here, with all of the moments and shades of emotion you’d expect over three decades. And pets! Over those years, our home has been made all the more loving by one cat (thanks for putting up with Peanut, Rick), one hamster, and six dogs. So yes, we’ve also cleaned up plenty of “accidents” here too. It has all made our house a home, and we’ll so miss living among our dear friends on Laurel Ridge Drive after we depart sometime this spring.
We’ve been blessed, however, to find another wonderful house, which feels more and more like home to us each time we drop off a few boxes or meet with our contractor to discuss tile, carpet, and paint.
Rick and I looked at one house before deciding to make an offer. Why look at others when you find the one that feels just right … that checks off all your boxes? We didn’t just find another house; we found another home. From our very first visit, we sensed warmth, love, and joy within its walls, all of which, we later learned, were generously extended by the previous owner. We’ll carry it all forward with the family and friends—dogs, too—who will share time and break bread with us there. And we look forward to the sound of little feet running through our new home in the future (but no pressure, kids).
Over these next two months—as we throw things away (Rick) or box them up (me) … as we sell, pack, and move—I hope there will be a family who walks into our current house and says, “This feels like home.” And I can only hope they’ll be as happy here as we have.
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I hope you’ll forgive a complete change in tone.
Incredibly, it’s been a year. A year and a day since seventeen students and staff were shot and killed at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, in Parkland, Florida. About the same number were injured; countless others carry emotional scars from that day.
A television news broadcast the day after the shooting provided what has been the most enduring image of that tragedy for me. I watched as one of the first responders talked about what he encountered at the high school.
Coral Gables Fire Department Lieutenant Laz Ojeda described how he twice rubbed the sternum of wounded and semi-conscious student Madeleine “Maddy” Wofford. Twice he asked Maddy, “Hey, how old are you,” sounding like he was pleading with her for a reply as he told the story. Finally, Maddie answered him. “Seventeen,” she said. Lt. Ojeda’s voice cracked and he wiped away tears as he described the scene to the camera crew.
For the community of Parkland, Florida, it will be long time until February 14th is again synonymous with Valentine’s Day. It’s sadly ironic that, for many, a date meant to celebrate love now commemorates an act of evil. But slowly, in small steps, the pall will gradually lift on February 14th, in Parkland, just as it will on June 12th, in Orlando, Florida; on October 1st, in Las Vegas, Nevada; on November 5th, in Sutherland Springs, Texas; and on December 14th, in Sandy Hook, Connecticut.
That doesn’t mean that any of the lives lost on those dates, or on other dates which memorialize the victims of our nation’s tragedies, will ever be forgotten. Nor does it mean that, for victims’ families, there won’t always be one day out of the year that is especially heavy and heartbreaking.
But, in a nod to faith, hope, and the enduring, fighting human spirit … we heal, albeit imperfectly. And we live on, the best we can.
(Photo Credit: Lea Böhm on Unsplash)