Yesterday's post took a lot out of me. Often as I'm writing, I have a kernel of an idea, but no clue where it will go from there. Yesterday was very much in that mold. My fingers seemed to take over and dug deep into my heart and soul and pulled that story out. That was a story that had never been told. It is completely true and left me feeling washed out and almost depressed.
I called my "shrink", aka, Dr. Deb (not a real Dr, but she plays one on TV :) ) She quickly diagnosed the problem: I was eulogizing the old me. In Judaism, after a person dies, שבעה (shiva) is the period of mourning after burial for a period of seven days. In a sense, I was sitting shiva for the old Jeff. I don't miss the old Jeff, but I do love him. It is the only point of reference I have for essentially the entirety of my life. Although the mirror shows the new guy, pictures show the old.
Fortunately, what really matters is what's inside, and that hasn't changed. Maybe a little smarter, maybe a little more experienced in understanding how my body works, but the rest of the inside is still the same.