“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me yearn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in a quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.” -Mary Jean Irion
I can’t even believe that right now is real life. After only six months, our “normal” here in Boston has become so special to us, for so many reasons: this city, the people-oh the people, the learning, the ways we get to spend our time, the time we get to spend together, the opportunities around us. We are so so grateful that we get to have this experience. I want to record this experience for us to look back on, to remember what made this time in our lives so special. While these days have become our new normal, this won’t always be our normal. As much as we wish it could, it just can’t. Perhaps that’s part of what makes it so special to us. But maybe if I make the effort to record the little things, this experience will burrow its way even deeper into our hearts and minds.
The most random collection of photos from our last six months representing a smidgen of some of our normal days-
Living above a construction site. While noisy at (nearly all) times, it provides endless entertainment for babies and grown-ups alike. Not the greatest photo, but it really has been so fascinating.
Even though life at HBS sometimes means life in a construction zone, this place is PRETTY, like completely picturesque. And so fun.
The colors of the fall here are nothing short of magnificent. Each time I thought fall was about to be over, I was surprised with a new autumnal display.
Yes this looks like a picture of an adorable, chubby-cheeked baby wearing hearing protection it is actually exactly that a picture of the fun we’ve had supporting the Harvard volleyball teams.
And then, there are the people. These people are so so good. Already the thought of not having them around forever makes me want to curl up in the corner and sob. Dramatic? Yes. Inaccurate? No. In the past six months, they’ve lent us their furniture when we’ve had none, shared with us their precious time and insight when we needed it most, played games and shared laughs late into the night, and most of all, been the best friends and examples to us. (Even that seagull wants to know them.)
Their children are sweet, adorable, kind, and a testament to the good people that they are. (And are already teaching Emily a thing or two about sharing.)
I never could have imagined that this experience could fill our hearts so full. We are truly so grateful for the ways this experience has already given us a day-to-day that is anything but normal.