line weight

Painted Stripe

I came home the other day to this freshly painted line on the street in front of our house, and I cried.

For seven years we’ve laughed about this line. The city comes every few months to repaint it all the way down our street, but because our car is always parked out front they just skip around it, leaving it faded & scraggly in front of our house.

Every so often in the midst of my amazing life, something seemingly insignificant happens that reminds me that Things are not as they used to be, and this sparkly white line in front of our house is one of those things.

I grieve transitions deeply. No matter how fabulous it is, a transition means something is different, and inevitably something is lost. I struggle to live in the moment and enjoy what I have without looking back at What Was.

For some reason when I saw this line it represented everything we did last summer when I wasn’t working – long days at the beach, free movies at the theater, and blueberry picking every week. We’ve done plenty of fun things this summer, too, but sometimes I catch my self thinking, it’s just not the same.

I know I’m being completely irrational since this line could have appeared while I was at the grocery store, but because it appeared while I was gone all day working, this new line carries some weight. It’s a monument to the next chapter in the ZugHaus.

Welcome to the neighborhood, Sparkly New Line.

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