There’s always a bit of pressure on the final “Slide of Life” day. Like, shouldn’t I be writing something profound? Shouldn’t I be contemplating something learned over the last month? I’ve been trying to piece something together that sounds sincere and learned, but I’ve come up with nothing.
Instead, I’ve listened to the sad sound of my neighbors’ dumpster being filled all day. The neighbors are moving, and we will miss them. The sound is just a constant auditory reminder of our loss, of a happy chapter of our lives that will soon be ending.
And maybe that’s it. Maybe each year the “Slice of Life” is also a chapter of our lives. Each year, we write this one chapter, and the importance of what we’ve done–of what we’ve learned–won’t occur to us until later. This year in particular, I’ve enjoyed reading some slices from previous years. I was a different person the first year I wrote this blog, and it’s fun to see who I was and reflect on how I’ve changed, on what I’ve learned.
In the future, I will reread this year’s posts. I wonder who future me will be.