Monday, September 3, 2012
NaBloPoMo | I Spy with My little Eye
I've decided to try out the NaBloPoMo writing prompts for September. This month is all about "Eyes"
Today's writing prompt is
"Write about one object you see at this exact moment"
I thought about blindfolding myself and spinning until I stopped and then writing about the first thing that I saw when I un-blindfolded myself. But, I thought that the chance of injury would be too high with that method of finding my "one object". Then I thought about throwing a dart at the bulletin board in front of me and talking about whatever the dart landed on. But, I don't own a dart. So, why don't I talk about the bulletin board itself?
The bulletin board is not exactly mine. To understand, you would have to know that our computer is in my "hubby's room". So basically, it is my hubby's bulletin board. But, on this board are all kinds of memories that include me. Sometimes I get to look up and reminisce. I can go back through his picture memories and realize how our lives have become intertwined together. But, there are also reminders that we don't share absolutely everything.
I could start my journey with pictures of the cruise that we met on. At that point, neither one of us had any idea that we would some day have to put our youngest child on a bus and would stand there crying together on the driveway.
Then there is a picture of the weekend we spent together in Knoxville three years later. That was the weekend I realized I was in love with him. Even then we didn't know we would have a son who loves LEGOs so much and is so uniquely himself.
Then there is the picture of the weekend he came down to Florida for New Year's eve when 1999 turned to 2000. That weekend became the time that I knew I never wanted to say "goodbye" to this person ever again. Ten days later I told him that I was coming up to visit. . . for a year. Even then we didn't know that we would eventually be a family of four.
There's a picture from our very first real vacation together at a Mexican restaurant in San Diego. At that point we still didn't know when we would be getting married. Although at that point, I knew we would get married. The kids . . . I still didn't know about. I suppose I wanted kids. I didn't know I'd want these kids!
There are pictures of all of my hubby's BASE jumping trips. Pictures of him jumping off bridges. . . pictures of him under canopy. . . These are the points where our lives diverge. I have nothing to do with this part of his life with the exception of praying. . . praying that he'll remain safe and that we can continue the threading of our lives together and make more memories to add to this bulletin board.
There are pictures that our kids have drawn. There are estimates of what our projected mortgage will be after we finish our addition. . . . . somewhat permanent plans of our continued life together.
Flight plans for his trip to China. . . . when our lives will once again diverge and I once again will need to pray for his safety. So that our lives will still be intertwined.
It's amazing how one bulletin board can hold so much of your life and spirit. . . . even if what it holds are papers. Within those papers, memories are held. The memories of how our lives became. And some of the papers. . . what our life will become. . . even if we don't know which direction it may take at the time.