Today marks my tenth year writing on this site. I recall fairly clearly walking down Main Street in Richmond, Va., with Tripp. We were headed to get lunch at the deli on the corner I think and had gotten to talking about the interesting things in life. That’s when he invited me to write for this site. At the time, I found it interesting but wasn’t immediately compelled to start writing.
Sometimes we all sail through periods of life where the story, the plot, becomes really hard to see.
Then the unthinkable happened and I had words just pouring out of me. I needed a place to put them all. And here is this gift, this ongoing gift that Tripp gave to me on that sunny walk all those years ago. Now this site is an archive of hundreds of my thoughts, my days, my emotional highs and lows. Even now I find myself flipping back through a year or seven, thumbing my way through the entire kaleidoscope of life experiences from births to deaths and everything in between.
And it is in this that I wonder at human expression. Why wouldn’t everyone want to write about the important moments, brief or long, that happen in their lives, to create an enduring record? Certainly, many millions post on Facebook or Twitter, but what becomes of that? Where do we leave our legacy? In the text messages of phones we’ll eventually upgrade? Scattered among the chaff of status updates or hash tags?
What becomes of us when we no longer can recall our stories?
