Life is Beautiful

http://twitter.com/zeldman/status/1558664990 & http://twitter.com/zeldman/status/12644932699

And it was only six months ago when he said it's necessary to have been abandoned, betrayed and ridiculed and to have a "restless, broken heart" in order to succeed: http://www.zeldman.com/2009/10/22/dirty-little-secret-of-suc...

Just his own output seems to demonstrate that maybe it does take some pain to feel truly grateful for what you do have, but, sadly, I doubt most people will appreciate that until, well, they've been through the mill too.

(Pardon me, HN. I don't feel good after reading this story and I am trying to help myself a little. I know it's silly. Downote this as much as you like, it's ok, I don't mind it, I just wanted to write this. Sorry.)

This (posted on HN a few weeks ago), is quite a bit more coherent, though: http://patterico.com/2006/12/03/putting-things-in-perspectiv...

“Dad, there are poopy turds on the floor,” my daughter said.

“I know, I’ll clean them in the morning.”

“Dad, there are poopy turds on the floor.”

“I’ll go clean them,” I said.

it reminds me of the Louis Kahn quote:

“And if you think of Brick, for instance, and you say to Brick, "What do you want Brick?" And Brick says to you "I like an Arch." And if you say to Brick "Look, arches are expensive, and I can use a concrete lentil over you. What do you think of that?" "Brick?" Brick says: "... I like an Arch"

Kids (and bricks) have a way of getting you to do the right thing.

I know this is hn, but thanks for the great thoughts.

This is the first time I have talked about this...

On October 8, 1991, we found a box on our front porch containing a kitten and a note, "Please take care of me." We named her Sarah.

Sarah was a cat who acted like a dog. Every time I came home, she came running to the car, screaming for me the whole way. She sat on my lap every single day as I wrote thousands of lines of code. She was my best friend and companion for years, longer than any human.

This past February, Sarah had started walking into walls. My vet thought she was going blind, a different reason for each eye. We started treatment immediately. She didn't sit with me when I worked anymore.

Then on March 8, 2010, I was in the middle of an intense piece of work and took my eye off her for 5 minutes. She walked off the balcony and fell to the driveway below. Her injuries were too much; she had to be put down.

I was surprised at how I reacted, inconsolable and unable to function for about a week. I sat at my terminal, but for the first time in my life, no code came out.

OP was right. Our companions can be magical and mystical. And no matter how much it hurt, it was definitely worth it.

The code is flowing again like it did for years with Sarah on my lap. Except now, it's her urn beside me, between my laptop and my monitor. Tonight was the first time I smiled about it. Thank you, OP.

Thank You for giving me that present.