This week had greater than normal variance. Higher highs and a lower low than usual.
The highs: I had some really great moments with Charlie this week. The weather was beautiful.
We went for a lot of walks and bike rides by the river in the evenings, and I’m regularly astounded by his memory and ability to notice things. I treasure those walks.
Charlie and I were on our own for a couple days while Amanda was in Miami for work. It went better than expected (certainly better than the trip last month.) Every single thing seemed smoother this time around, from morning and bedtime routines, to daycare drop off, to Charlie listening to his body and communicating when he had to potty. I’m really proud of him.
Two highlights:
- We tried a Texas-style bbq shack we pass all the time. I ordered pulled chicken for Charlie, but he surprised me by preferring brisket and eating most of the brisket I ordered (and I ordered fatty brisket, not lean!). I’m excited to have another person in the family who appreciates brisket.
- We had a fire in the chiminea on the porch on Friday night. He helped me collect sticks to burn, he was fascinated by instead of scared of the big rat snake we encountered, he enjoyed watching the fire, we talked about fire safety and he was quite diligent, we looked at the stars and talked about the Big Dipper, we set up his small tent on the porch, we snuggled and ate ice cream as the flames turned into embers. A great evening.
The low:
A friend from high school took his own life this week.
I only have four friends from high school I keep in touch with, and he was one of them. It hit me harder than I expected, and even though it probably wouldn’t have changed the outcome, I feel guilty for not talking with him recently. The last time we chatted was over a year ago. I thought about him two weeks ago and meant to text him, but I didn’t. Man, that feels awful.
He had a big impact on my life. He was a few years ahead of me in high school and patiently taught me the basics of PHP and MySQL, which I now use daily in my work with WordPress at Automattic.
Reflecting a lot on him over the last couple days, I realized that I identified with him more than anyone else I went to high school with because of our similarities across different areas of my life:
- We grew up in the same school system and even though we were a few years apart, we followed the same class track. We both worked after school in room 320 on the tech team managing the school system’s website, intranet, and email server. We were in a Sunday night book seminar together as well.
- Every time we talked we were exploring similar ideas, reading similar books, and following similar blogs. He was a reader and commenter on this blog and a couple other blogs I contributed to.
- I appreciated his intellectual curiosity.
- He had very similar political leanings and an interest in economics, which was a big part of my life from 2008-2014. Only 2 people from high school shared this interest, and I recall that he introduced me to some of the early blogs I read in this space.
- We shared an interest in the outdoors, and good hikes and national park visits were a frequent topic in our email exchanges.
- We both worked in the tech industry.
I have lots of friends that I share one or two of these things with, but he was the only one who comes to mind who I shared this much similarity with in areas of my life I normally think of as separate.
Despite this, we hadn’t seen each other in person for a decade. We mostly kept in touch via email or blog comments and occasional video chats, which seemed totally normal for us.
I wish I would have talked with him more frequently. I wish I would have shared a meal with him at Christmastime each year. I wish I would have known he was struggling. I wish I would have told him these things and told him how much he matters. Now I’ll never get to. It makes me incredibly sad.
Life is about navigating living with these wildly different emotions (joy, pride, fulfillment, sadness, regret, grief) in the same day and continuing to fulfill your obligations while they happen. We often think about these things in isolation, but they happen in the same short period of time and same physical location. You experience them together and life doesn’t stop. My son still needs me to be a father, get us home safely, and make us both lunch even when I’ve just read a heartwrenching email in the parking lot at Trader Joe’s. And even though that little boy mostly needs things from me, he gives so much to me, too. So much joy, pride, and love. Even comfort—he noticed I was sad and came over to give me a hug and sit in my lap.
Life is so much more complex than I thought when I was younger. That is what this week was about… life, death, joy, pain, pride, regret, and the deep complexity of life.
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