I got into my car last night. It was 9:30pm. I was by myself. Hal was upstairs with a Play-Doh occupied Miriam. I was running out for tin foil, bubbles, cat food, and baby wipes. My mind flashed back to the first time I went out by myself after Noah died. I don’t remember where I was going but I vividly remember that empty backseat staring back at me in the rear view mirror.

There is this urgency I live with. It’s a feeling of near panic- making sure Miriam is safe. It’s understandable and mostly manageable. But this urgency creeps out into my daily life in other ways. This urgency to share my stories,  big and small. To record somehow that I am here. And for when I’m no longer here. It’s not about ego or self-importance. It’s about reaching out for help and inspiration. It’s about laughing ’til you cry and crying ’til you laugh. I’ve always thought that if the energy of all our stories could be harnessed into powering some Rube Goldberg-like maze, it would be so powerful that this world may very well implode.

This urgency gets stronger in rough times. Unhappy days at work, money problems, health scares, sad news from people I love. But this urgency has become my friend too. It’s almost got a face in my mind. And it looks like me! But I remember a saying from art school …”every great artist is always really drawing themselves.”


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