Yes, I’m alive.
One of the veterans with whom I work said to me last week, “Boy, those last few posts of yours were pretty dark. Are you OK?”
He’s a good man who always asks me about my welfare–and I always appreciate his asking. I assured him, “Yes. Saddened, but OK.”
Honestly, the reason I’ve not posted in a while has little to do with Porthos’ death or with recent events in Boston, both of which have been off and on my mind throughout the past weeks. I’m afraid my hiatus is due to matters much more mundane–and therefore much more fatiguing.
For after twenty-four years of marriage and fifteen years in our house, my wife and I are finally downsizing. As any of you who has put a house on the market–or, even worse, prepared for a Moving Sale–knows, Basic Training is a much more preferable way to spend a few weeks of one’s life.
At least you get to march in a graduation ceremony after it’s all said and done (well, most recruits do, anyway).
So there you have it. Actually, the mundaneness of life juxtaposed with the horror of the Boston bombings has been anything but on the back burner of my daily thoughts. After all, for six years, I lived within easy walking distance of both MIT and Watertown, a quick subway ride on the T from Boylston Street.
Soon, I promise. Soon.