Yesterday I goofed. I forgot to credit the blog where I learned about that nifty procrastination formula. I should have included this line at the end of my entry:
Link via Wil Wheaton.
Gazillions of people have heard of Wil because of this sci-fi TV show he used to be on, but I remember him as Gordie in Stand By Me. That movie was based on a Stephen King novella called The Body. At the time the movie came out, The Body was my favorite Stephen King story. ("The most important things are the hardest things to say...")
I stumbled on Wil's blog by accident, but I keep visiting because (1) he is an unabashed geek who is hip to stuff like the procrastination formula (2) he is funny, funny, funny and (3) he is a very talented writer...especially when he writes about his own life. Check out this brief excerpt from the first entry I ever read, then go visit Wil's blog and read the whole thing:
As we drive down Aunt Val's street, it hits me: this is it. I've been asked to help my dad move furniture, but I'm really here to say goodbye to this house that's been part of my life since I was a child.
A tremendous sadness washes over me as we back into the driveway.
I exchange polite hellos with Aunt Val's daughter, who is responsible for the selling of the house, and walk inside.
It's the first time I've been there since her death, and the house feels cold and empty. It's more than just the furniture being gone. It's her warmth and love that are missing.
Most of the furniture has been moved out, but certain things remain untouched: her bookcase, filled to overflowing with pictures of the family and children's artwork...some of it mine...still dominates the side of the living room, the recliners where my great grandparents spent most of the last years of their lives opposite. I remember sitting in my Papa's chair, while Aunt Val sat next to me, watching Love Boat and Fantasy Island, thrilled that I was staying up past my bedtime, watching shows intended for grownups, putting one over on my parents who would often drop my siblings and me off for the weekend.
I loved those weekends. When we spent time with Aunt Val we were loved. We were the center of the Universe, and though she was well into her 70s, she would play with us, walk with us to get snacks, let us stay up late. It was wonderful.
Golly. I wish I could write about my family that way. Fantastic.
Read the entire entry here: http://www.wilwheaton.net/mt/archives/001126.php