witness

I have all these photographs on my phone, my Ipad, my computer.  Nothing tangible, but readily accessible.  Easily at my fingertips but could be lost forever in a moment of catastrophe big or small.  I worry about that -- more than I worry about a plague of locusts, less than I worry about my kids' health and well-being.  What if all these images were lost?  Could they be replaced?  No, which is sad. But that possible sadness shall not replace the living, breathing substance of our beautiful life in our placid home.

These photographs are so transient.  They have so much meaning, yet are so vulnerable. 

Better than any photograph is a living witness.  An entity to observe and remember.  A living witness to love and share these memories.  To stay silent, in the background, but always there.  Permanent.  Taken for granted.  Impermeable.  Emotionally invested.

So many walks.  So many talks.  Through quads and neighborhoods.  Cities and suburbs.  Hottest summers and coldest winters.

A witness to our first days as a couple living together
A witness to and victim of our first attempt at parenthood
A witness to financial insecurity
A witness to first semester medical school exams
A witness to new friends gained
A witness to wedding planning madness
A witness to Honeymoon bliss
A witness to Step 1 insanity
A witness to World Series ecstacy
A witness to the metal forging of third year medical school
A witness to major and minor exams
A witness to residency candidacy excitement
A witness to Super Bowl agony
A witness to interstate transit and home ownership
A witness to dissertation research
A witness to the dank tasks of internship
A witness to infertility
A witness to resignation
A witness to blood loss
A witness to a hastily procured second dog with sociopathic tendencies
A witness to Hope
A witness to desperation
A witness to the never-ending middle of residency
A witness to adoption planning
A witness to true faith
A witness to long-awaited pregnancy
A witness to dissertation defense
A witness to our first attempt at legally recognized parenthood
A witness to friendship lost
A witness to graduation and becoming adults
A witness to things to becoming things we talked about never becoming
A witness to career advancement
A witness to career transition
A witness to financial security
A witness to an ambulance ride
A witness to our second attempt at legally recognized parenthood
A witness to home improvement
A witness to daily happiness
A witness to Tenth Anniversary planning. . .so close

You almost made it.
Then the walks slowed and the walks shortened.
But the walks never stopped, even at the end.  What was the point if they had to stop?



A living witness may be vulnerable.  "Everything dies, baby, that's a fact"
The song doesn't end there and we both know it.  You and I stayed up late (err you slept and I stayed up late) and that song played so many times in the beginning.  You never understood much, but you understood what you needed to so well.
But maybe someday
That's what I believe.