We’ve heard it countless times. A new chapter. And end of a chapter. As humans we want to compartmentalize all aspects of our lives. I know I have multiple folders on my phone to group apps into. It makes things more orderly. Less chaotic. My best friend alphabetizes her books. Organized. Structured.

And now we think in chapters. Each portion of our lives we put into chapters. And when that part of our life ends or changes we say, “flip the page or start a new chapter.” Like it’s that easy. Most of the time it’s traumatic or painful. Many times it’s loss or grief. Rarely do we use the saying when discussing a happy time because who wants to start a new chapter when life is a box of chocolates from Paris? The end of a chapter sucks. With each new chapter you get closer to the end of a story.

I want to turn my page. I want to end this chapter titled “Cancer” and yet I know the only way this chapter ends is with death. Or does it? The other day I was discussing the plans my company has for a new building with E and how when he’s in high school we can meet for lunch or he can pick me up at work. That’s 8 years away. I said it and never once did I think “Oh shit, that’s right I’ll be pushing up daisies by then.” I said it because my life doesn’t have to be a chapter book. It doesn’t have to end.

I have a ton of tales to tell and my life isn’t a collection of chapters between leather bindings. It’s a fucking library filled with laughter, tears, joy and life. Pure unbridled chaotic life. Keep reading my friends.