At midnight after a year that constantly felt like the last 5 minutes of a long day, I took the unusual step of not staying home. Before that, we had had dinner with old friends, rang in the new year with long lost friends, and drove to an after party with new friend. A man there asked me to describe how I met my wife. This morning, she hugged me in the kitchen and whispered, 'Thank you for saying those sweet things last night.'
I have to remember that power of biography in the coming year. I am aided by old diaries and photo albums. I wonder how other people would tell their stories in the absence of crib notes. I will ask others to tell me about their intimate histories, and watch their faces.
Going through old photo albums, I came across a picture I took in 1994. Two stray dogs at the village museum near Sibiu, Romania. Never really saw dogs like that before.
We found one on our doorstep 19 years later. He must have loads of stories wrapped between those furry, well-traveled moppet ears.
The power of biography is strong with you. Which I think is another way of saying: I want all of your stories.
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