Dust and Sadness

I'm covered in dust and a little bit of sadness. I've spent the morning preparing to repaint our daughter's former nursery. The preparation consisted of sanding down little white stars. You can see the stars in the following picture:

So you can understand why I'm covered in dust, but you might be wondering where the sadness comes into play. I'm saddened because this room is a nursery no more. My daughter is comfortably settled into what she refers to as her "big girl" room and the nursery is becoming a guest room/study.

As I sanded each star, I was reminded how quickly time passes and things change. We all have these moments where we're forced to face such big questions as: Did I make the most of that time? Did I truly appreciate every moment or did I spend too much time looking towards the future? I'm not completely satisfied with my answers to these questions, and this is where the sadness settles - along with that stardust - on my shoulders.

I vow to use this blog and my family blog to abandon the daily grind of life and hold the ordinary moments sacred.

Message of the day. Listen up now, because this one's important. Brush those teeth, eat that roughage, pop those vitamins, and wear sensible shoes. Man, we homo sapiens carry around a heavy psychic knapsack: consciousness. We all know we're going to be asked to get off the merry-go-round someday. Best we can do is keep the corpse beautiful, right? And what is the right stuff, anyway, crossing a double yellow on your hog or looking a thirty-year mortgage flat in the face?

The long haul. I'm going to need some clean undies; got my toothbrush, got my library card. What did the man say? A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step, right?

***Chris Stevens from Northern Exposure