Today is Yom Kippur, the holy day of atonement. I've always thought it a powerful holiday despite not being Jewish. My kids were all home from school, though, and things were far from sober around here. The boys wanted to go upstairs and rummage around our attic which is only reachable by climbing a ladder and then hoisting oneself through a hole in the Barbie bathroom ceiling. I, personally, have never been up there, but I got into the spirit of things by asking Henry to bring me a giant box of photo albums, high school yearbooks and sundry items that I've stored for many, many years.
The photo is a bit blurry, but this is what my bed looks like as I go through it all. When Oliver saw all the photos of me as a teenager and college student, he told me that I looked amazing. He also asked me, What happened to you? I promptly pushed him up the ladder and hoisted him through the hole in the ceiling where I'm having him stay until he's almost fifty years old.
