The last time I opened this blog was to post about our trip back in July. I remember sitting on the porch swing as I watched the kids swimming. I clicked "publish post" and I snapped my computer shut and jump back in the pool with them. We swam for another hour, and then the sun got mighty high in the sky and I thought it was time to take a break for the afternoon. We would reconvene our swimming after dinner. It was time to get out of the sun and for me to take a hot shower.
And then less than an hour later, our lives were turned upside down and nothing would ever be the same again.
I recorded much of our family's history on the pages of this blog, for the better part of eight years. I published the last thing on the day Garrett drowned. It's been very sad for me not being able to open it again. My life has been filled with endless pages of sadness in these last several months. I can't imagine it feeling like anything but doom and gloom ever again, but I have to believe that one day, it will feel different. I'm not foolish enough to believe it will ever be like it once was, but it can't always feel like...this.
Today while hiking I thought about our little corner of cyberspace and what it means to me (and my family) to continue in this endeavor of archiving the comings and goings of our lives. Even if no one reads it, I do it for me. I do it for us, our family.
So with a few clicks of my mouse and a new name for it, I've re-opened this sacred place in our universe.