Things I Need to Write About . . .

but don't have time to right now. So I'll write this instead to remind me to write about this:

1. Wednesday's Concert in the Park
2. Something Beckett did yesterday, that I can't remember right now, but by the time I write again, he'll have done something else I can write about.
3. Ditto for Frank
4. Three years ago today (July 10), Frank, Beckett, Alina and I got in the car at 3108 Sumatra Place and drove away. We didn't stop (well we did STOP occasionally), until we got to Colorado Springs.

And actually, that I'll write about right now. Doug was already in Colorado Springs, he had been for two months. In those two months I packed the house and prepared for our move, while working two jobs and having sporadic help from nannies who worked for us and then didn't and then came back and then left again.

The morning of July 10 the movers arrived to take all of our belongings and put them into a moving van. I remember that before they got there I took our video camera and walked through each room, talking to Doug the whole time, telling him what I remembered about each room, about my memories of our first home as husband and wife, the first home both of our children knew. I cried and cried, wishing he was with me to say good-bye to our home. Doug and I watched that video when I got to Colorado Springs and we both cried then.

It is so unbelievably hard to fathom that we've been here three years already. And it is astounding the life we have built for ourselves in that time. It seems as if it has been at least ten.

Tonight I am at Second Street Art Market and Wine Bar. It is full. We have a piano now, and there is a guy playing tonight. He is great, absolutely perfect for this place. Customers starting coming in around 4:30 and the place has been full ever since. Regulars have been in, who I've had an opportunity to chat with and new folks who haven't been in before and have come in tonight too. It is a great night for it.

I'm happy through my tears.