Do you have a language all your own?
October 8, 2019

When we started renovating our house eleven years ago I put what I thought were a precious few material possessions in a boarded-up closet, out of the way of the drywallers. Imagine my surprise when I finally opened that closet and discovered I’d saved everything Katie took a pencil to for the first thirteen years of her life. For starters.

Darrell and I have a routine now. I’ll bring him something random, like an unopened package of index cards I no longer fancy, special cleaning supplies for our brand-new kitchen counter (the one we hadn’t seen for eleven years because it was covered with blankets to protect it from those drywallers), or keys we think will unlock something if we can figure out what that is.

He’ll look at me. I’ll shrug. “It was in the stuff jail,” I’ll say.

I’ve been using that term for eleven years, and he only recently told me it’s hilarious. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought so before. But it was so much a part of us, almost like breathing, it had become part of the furniture (another favorite phrase).

Have you noticed what I have, that close friends and families have a language all their own?

It’s still another reason to delight in the company we keep.