Pain is my alarm clock
Today the pain woke me at 5:00 AM. One week ago today I had surgery. While most of me has bounced back, parts look like I disagreed with a mule. There is tenderness where a hernia repair botched by NYU interns 20 years ago finally got fixed. There’s throbbing, tumescent, Tim-Burton-directed pain in other places, where other things were done.
The past 12 months have been … interesting. I fired a client. My lead designer in New York decided to strike out on his own. I woke one morning with a toe the size of Cleveland, and after four months of practitioner hot potato, was diagnosed with gout and osteoarthritis. My dad had heart surgery, and airline incompetence got me to his side after it was over. (Fortunately he survived.) One of my businesses yielded a tax bill I couldn’t pay. I required intensive periodontal care. My hernia, supposedly fixed two decades ago, popped open again.
Somewhere in the middle of this—around Thanksgiving—my beloved wife screwed up the courage to confess that she was unhappy.
A year of couples counseling could not save the marriage. We did, however, save the family. Our child is well, we co-parent beautifully, and, with a lot of work on both sides, the ex and I have become good friends. Better friends, maybe, than when we were husband and wife. Friends for life. Lemonade for 200, Alex.
Holding onto yesterday
The dizzying marital sea change dwarfed everything else. At first I was stunned, like an accident victim. During one of the comic episodes of my toe enlargement mystery, I found myself alone in a hospital gown, about to have an MRI. In the mirror I reminded myself of my hospital-gowned father, whose surgery I had just attended. The doctor bustled in to ask me questions before the test. “How you doing,” he said. It took all my strength not to babble, “My wife is leaving me.”
We threw a Christmas party in the studio. My wife and child were among the guests, the wife looking radiant, the child frolicking adorably. I sensed that people viewed me as lucky and successful, and most were happy for me. They didn’t know that I was about to lose the only thing that matters. In the midst of happy celebrants, I felt alone.
During the inauguration of President Obama, while much of the world experienced hope, I focused on Laura Bush standing beside George Bush, and wondered why their marriage endured, while mine was falling apart.
It was like that. Then it got better.
The love you make
One day I realized I could not change what would happen, but I could influence how it happened. I could be the angry denier, hanging onto what no longer exists. Or I could embrace change with love and no conditions. After all, it was not about me, it was about us. And the most important thing was that the most important one of us be protected and continue to feel safe and loved.
Once you figure that out, the rest is easy, if you have a good partner.
By the time I started letting people know about the divorce, I was almost okay with it. I had stopped feeling that things were happening to me, and started taking control of my life. I enjoyed family time and single time. Although my depressed mother had raised me to view self-love as narcissism, I began taking care of myself. I ate sensibly, exercised, saw friends, took time to relax.
As part of that self-care, I opted not to leave unexploded land mines in my system.
During yesterday’s initial follow-up, the surgeon told me I was doing well—recovering fast. I celebrated by walking three miles down Fifth Avenue and meeting a friend for lunch. Then the pain told me to rush home and lie down, and I did as the pain commanded.
The pain that wakes me is good pain. It is the pain of taking care of yourself. The pain of recovery.
Tags: myglamorouslife, zeldman
Filed under: Zeldman, glamorous
You’re a stronger man than I. Stay sound, Jeff.
best wishes and hope you get back on your feet in no time.
You are an amazing writer, Mr Zeldman, considering the fact that you are in a shitload of pain. Here’s to a speedy recovery.
My father inlaw once said to me
The more situations I come across the more I find it to be true.
All the best Jeffrey, hope the recovery continues to go well and that you’ve managed to come out the other side after everything a stronger person.
Hang in there J! Hope you get well soon.
Always admired you for your courage to speak openly yet gently. You’re a great writer and an inspiration to many. I may be just an Internet guy but, here’s a toast to a better future. Be well, Jeffrey.
Wow going through a very similar situation as I type this from a hospital bed after being admitted with pneumonia earlier today. My soon to be ex-husband just dropped by with 2 of our 3 kids to give me my laptop so I would not be bored with this crap hospital experience.
In spirit and healing, especially as the family unit disintigrates. I never thought I would be ’separated’. But here I am.
amen brother.
You are a wise man, strong Jeffrey,
Take care.
Get well
j
ouch about you marriage m8 :S damn, i could hardly cope with my girlfriend doing it, take care m8, and don’t let any kinda depression get to you :)
Wishing you a speedy recovery and thank you for sharing so freely.
This brought a tear to my eye. So beautifully expressed.
Mr. Zeldman may you always have the love of your daughter in your heart and light in your eyes and your soul. – peace!
I can almost feel your pain and your strength reading this. Amazing story, thanks for sharing! And get well soon … the world is a better place with you in it.
While it is unfortunate that you couldn’t save the marriage, what is fortunate is that your daughter has such sensible, level-headed parents who will always do the best for her. And you know that you have support from friends beyond just New York :-)
As for the hernia … I didn’t realise it could ‘pop back out again’. Good to know, as I had to have one ‘popped back in’ 12 years ago. If there is one thing it taught it at the time it’s this: women who have Cesareans and who are on their feet within two days deserve frickin medals! My biggest fear, as I lay useless on the couch after the op was simply this: an unexpected sneeze.
Stay well, Jeffrey.
Jeffrey, you have impacted the lives of so many, and the openness/courage you exhibit with your posts and tweets leads by example what people could be like. I am so sorry that you have had a year from hell — having been there myself, I know how exhausting and draining and hopeless it can feel. Your choice to take this approach of focusing on Ava will definitely save your heart. My tax guy swears to me that as long as we make the effort, the tax problems will be resolved. You’re a dear to share with folks, and if you are ever in trouble, there’s a huge mass of folks out here, willing to come to your rescue. Just say the word.
Next time, celebrate with a little less of a walk… ;)
Jen
Mr. Zeldman, ever since I’ve started getting interesting with the internet around 2002, you were a mythical figure, almost the Godfather of this business. You looked larger than life. With this post, you’ve brought out beautifully the human side of you.
I am currently in the process of trying to salvage my own relationship with the woman I love, and whatever you said struck a chord deep in me. I understood exactly what you meant. And you, sir, are a brilliant and brave man for having written this. Take good care, sir!
A pretty crap year, all things considered. Lets hope that next year makes up for it.
Great post. Reminds me a lot of the poem ‘If’ by Rudyard Kipling. Speedy recovery Sir. *doffs cap*
Quite inspiring Jeff, thanks for that. I’ve had a pretty shitty year so far and am still waiting for the downwards curve to reverse and give me some luck but you’re absolutely right, you need to control the change. This doesn’t stop you feeling bad about what’s happened, but certainly puts a positive spin on things.
It’s almost like everything happens for a reason, no matter how bad it is – I can hear myself saying that in years to come but right now it seems so far away. Tomorrow seems far away but I’m sure we’ll get there in one piecem it’s up to us how we get there, isn’t it?
That was such a human post and I am sure it’ll resonate with many. I went through my tough year in 2005 where all that sort of heavy life stuff happened. A good friend pointed out to me then that the only person that can break your heart is yourself. I wanted to punch him at the time, but he was right.
Speedy recovery!
Dear Jeffrey, You remain an inspiration. May your pain be compensated with a greater capacity for joy. Speedy healing.
Your determination to rise above your troubles is truly inspiring, Jeffrey. Having read snippets of this story (your life!) in Tweeted form as they happened, it’s a pleasure to hear how you’ve put all the pieces together, both as a piece of writing and a life lesson. Be well and thank you for sharing so openly.
The way you share your professional knowledge and your personal side is always an example for all of us trying to put together this things called work and life.
Best wishes, Jeffrey
Not only ‘Godfather of Web Standards’, also ‘The Human Face’ in the virtual world, and a damn good writer. Hope you get well soon!
It is fascinating to receive the gift of glimpsing into your inner world. It is a tough time for you, it pains me a lot to read of what you are experiencing, but it is also encouraging to see how you handle it, allowing yourself to become a better person, and worrying about your family and child more as the most important parts of your life.
I really appreciate your courage and honesty about the experience, your words shock my life and urge me to look at me and my family differently. I am such an selfish @ss sometimes, even though my brain understands that “me” is not the biggest thing in this world. This has to change.
Thank you for the words of wisdom and for the inspiration to improve.
I agree; you’re a tough-enough man, and a very decent writer.
Sometimes I think that we, computer people, cannot deal satisfactorily with our couple, family and our spare time. Sometimes I think I’m missing the sunny day and the museum and those 4 hours in which we ought to, every day, forget about work.
Sometimes I think we should stop working sometime. That would do a lot of good to people that want to be with us. Screw business ambition. Let’s focus on family ambition, not only when they’re in trouble, but also when they’re having fun. What if I never get to learn Ruby on Rails? Will that make me a failure?
We mustn’t let our profession drive our life. I don’t know if that’s your case, Jeff, that’s only my guess since you seem to be always in front of the computer. And I always seem to be there, too, when my Reader’s notifier tells me that you have just posted something on here.
But this is also true: “Pain is weakness leaking out”
Excuse my english.
Thank you for the essay. As I am bedridden at the moment awaiting surgery for a broken ankle, I know the literal truth of the title. :-) But pain has also proven itself time and again in my own life to be a real wake-up call in a spiritual and general sense. Keep taking good care of yourself.
love your writing.
nice work.
sorrry about the year from hell :)
When I first joined Twitter, I remember finding your tweets and favoriting many of them–usually because I found many of them funny and poignant. There were many times this year when I needed them.
This year, I turned thirty. I have been chomping at the bit lately to turn 31 because this year has been challenging. In one year, I gave up on teaching, decided I wanted to be a counselor, was laid off twice in six months, and saw the disintegration of a 3 1/2 year relationship with a man I never thought would leave me…we no longer speak. I’ve called it the Year of the Aftershock because this sort of year is not new to me. Four years ago, when I was 26, my fiance and I ended our engagement and my Mama got sick and died within a two month period from a bizarre heart condition. I called that the Year of the Cyclone.
I’ve survived both of these years, and this latest version of it has taught me many things. Mostly, it has taught me to appreciate every single day I’m given–and all the crappy things, just as much as the joyous things. And, funnily enough, being grateful for every damn thing has allowed me to be truly happy when there’s no reason to be. Because it is all a gift.
Life can be gut-wrenching, and there are never any guarantees. All we can do is keep going, keep trying, and to savor all of it. Thank you for sharing this today. Thank you for being an inspiration and source of hope. Your little girl is lucky to have you.
[...] Pain is my alarm clock » Jeffrey Zeldman 85 minutes ago [...]
Once again deeply moved by your truthfulness and grace under pressure, as well as the honest to goodness profundity of your thoughts and words. I hope all the pain passes quickly; I have no doubt that the hard-won wisdom will remain. Your daughter is a very lucky little girl to have such parents.
Taking care of yourself is certainly an important first step, thanks for the reminder. And thank you for this very personal story – best wishes to you and your family.
This post is beautiful. Thanks.
I saw the Woody Allen film “Whatever Works” this past Sunday. I see a kind of philosophical and emotional resonance with that film. Most of life is just luck.
I wish you good luck and all the best for your life, you deserve it for all the sharing you have done over the years.
I think if you share everything in life as you shared your knowledge, you are on right way, but as we all know “life is not fair.”
Be strong and best for you.
thank you
“After all, it was not about me, it was about us.” That’s so damn true an one should never forget this, being a parent or not.
Hang in there and refrain from the negative feelings (unless they’re fun for us to read).
This was poetic. Thanks for the perspective.
I was wondering why this blog was again so vital in the last months.
You are a great writer and a great man. Hope your next years will be better than this.
Every time I read one of your articles I’m inspired to go off and write yet fail to deliver to the same standard.
I hope you get better soon and your life starts to improve greatly.
Having had abdominal surgery about 5 years ago, I sympathize with your body’s pain and I know what a challenge it is to even get up. The fact that you’re rehabilitating yourself is admirable. Having only recently been married, I can only imagine the anguish you’ve been through. So, I also admire your honesty and openness in your writing and it shows that there are still humans that can exemplify decency and civility. As you put your best foot forward, I hope the best comes to you going forth.
ten years reading this blog off and on learning a lot, reading a lot, i have been surprised a lot and disappointed a few times.
things come in waves, especially the \”bad\” stuff.
having someone you have built your life with (or around) announce that they have not been living the same dream as you is exactly that kind of wave coming in to the beach where you have been sitting, happy, but unbeknownst to you, in a daze.
although at the time it only feels like you are drowning how you ride the wave will determine how you come out of this and will define you for the next serious chunk of life (or the next serious partner).
growing yourself and releasing your anger are the only things you should be doing …
Jeffrey,
I met you at the first AEA, where you, Eric, and Jason kicked me in the butt and got me on the path to doing things right. You all taught me that being accessible, in code and in personal behavior, is the way of a good web designer. Like many of the other commenters, I wondered from your tweets how you were *really* doing. Thank you for this window into your soul.
Like you, the past 12 months for me have also been an extreme test. I bought a house, took a job much closer to home but also less creatively inspiring, my wife cheated on me, I was hit by a drunk driver 3 days later giving me a back injury, and in February I tore my shoulder snowboarding & went through surgery to correct that, and have just regained a moderate range of motion.
Clearly, we are not the same person, but I think to a degree I can identify, my friend. Once my anger over these various situations subsided, I felt closer to whole again. I am still not “found” and too often catch myself looking in the wrong places. It’s comforting to hear that you and your wife are amicable, especially for your daughter’s sake.
I sincerely wish you the best, and will look to your powerfully introspective words whenever I feel that tinge of weakness that brings out the uglier side. And perhaps, by the time we meet at another AEA, we will both be healed, physically & mentally, and will be able to marvel at how incredibly well the preceding year has gone for us. Or so I hope. To a speedy recovery, sir!
Glad to see the emphasis on your daughter. Precious gift. I, too, am going through a separation. I’ve learned you can only control the things you can control. All the other, let it go. I’m glad you seem at peace with the process. Good luck on all of your recoveries.
jeffrey-
i have always admired how you foster this community. you teach us, you challenge us. you inspire us to empathize with our clients, our users, and each other. you compel us by being human. the only way to be human (where our interactions happen over wires) is to share your entire variety of human experience.
i don’t know if i would have the courage to share so much, but i appreciate that you do. and i hope that in doing so your reward is that you can aggregate what solace and wisdom we all have to offer, if only in a fraction of what you provide to us.
all our best. truly.
Damn, but you’ve got an amazing gift for writing. Thanks for the updates… I really think you ought to publish a book about life in general, leaving out the web dev stuff. I’d snap that up right away.
There ’s a teriffic article in the op-ed section of the Times today by David Brooks. The kind of piece he does best.
He write about the sacrifices made by people who acheive – apropos Sonia Santomayor’s Supreme Court confirmation hearings and the story of her life.
In Gypsy, Stephen Sondheim wrote, “Some people can thrive and bloom, living life in a living room”, but not you Zeldman.
Rest up and zei gezunt.
Thanks for sharing, Jeffrey. You have a gift for explaining difficult things, beautifully. Doesn’t matter what the subject is, and that’s incredibly inspiring.
Keep rocking, amigo.
Cleanse the system, let the turmoil out. Good for you! This is life, it could be many other ways too, it is sometimes up to you. Many people suffer more , so keep the chin up, and enjoy that great reservoir of life that keeps on giving more than we ever drink from it. For all the good times in the future, that you may have learned from the past, so that you do not repeat it, and are better prepared for what old age brings. Be kind, both to yourself and others, and enjoy NYC, just get out often enough to not go crazy.
I’ve always told everyone that my wife is my best friend, a point that I echoed in front of our friends and family on our wedding day.
We’re still best friends, able to have differences, give each other space and keep up with each other now that we are parenting seven month old twins. I can say that even if we never got married or had children we would probably always have some kind of friendship with her. Some people just work like that.
My parents divorced when they discovered that after twenty years they were effectively oil and water, so I’ve seen a rough divorce first hand from a child’s perspective. So I was actually sort of concerned when I heard you were getting a divorce, I felt it like I would for an old friend. I go way back but you’ve never met me, but I guess online personalities such as yourself are more significant than we think.
It’s nice to hear that you’ve found a balance. I hope Ava will always see it that way.
Get some more rest.
I’ve been reading you for about a decade now.
This is (perhaps ironically) your most honest and beautifully written post.
Lemonade for 200 indeed. Thank you for sharing yourself in such a brave and bold way.
Thank you for writing this. Get well soon.
Geez!!! Thanks for sharing. Inspiring and lovely story.
Jeffrey, you’re a good man. I still remember your posting announcing the birth of your daughter as one of the most beautiful expressions of fatherly love. You do have a lot to live for, and this world needs you in it.
Life sometimes takes you places that you’ve never thought of. And it spins you around, and you stumble and fall, and there are sleepless nights and mournful days, and days when you don’t wanna look at yourself in the mirror because you feel that the worries would come true, and days when there’s this weight on your chest, but the tears won’t fall because there are no more tears left to cry and crying is anyway overrated by that time. Yet the beauty of it is when you get back on your feet and you’re able to say “I survived that!”. And you feel so much stronger for it. They say it’s not the destination, but the ride that counts.
Three years and some change in NYC, thousands of miles away from my family and friends, taught me that I am a survivor. Now London will be the next adventure.
I hope you feel a lot better soon!
Best of luck. I’m always impressed by your writing, even about subjects as painful as these. The Love You Take is equal…
Beautiful (of course) and profound. Thank you.
Bookmarked.
It is only through our suffering that we truly grow
Amidst the pain and suffering and loss, your hollowed gut, the angst and weight of solitude, only then do we truly know the full extent of ourselves, the finite truth of our lifelines and the density of being alive in the first place.
You’re journey now through these difficult times, more than all the happy times, shapes your character and your soul and carves your courage from the tree that you are. Only now can your roots truly grow, deeper into the ground upon which you stand. Only now can you feel the full spectrum of emotions, the mottled shades of temporary ecstasy and happiness, union and togetherness, creation and completion, a postcard memory, from which to launch the next chapter of your life, with new moments, people and experiences. New highs and lows.
The wholeness of this moment is painful, as it contains the dark we all so often avoid, the inevitable element which forces the lighter parts of our life, to feel so light and the moments of loss to feel so heavy.
You’ve done well to find your balance, find your light and move forwards with an internal harmony, with love and in that love, the blues also walk with you and to you, and together its music, like nothing before, pushing the sidewalk along, the world is still at your feet, its just now you feel the music, like never before, deeper and without notions of eternal and forever, but sharper and with the knowledge of the moment within your grasp.
Whole is what you are, real is what you feel and grounded is what you have become – all in the moments of shadow and pain.
Ironically, above all things, this pain, these feelings, this experience, sharpens your mind, your passion to produce for yourself, your ability to write. You observe now, through a heavy heart and without judgment, the information you perceive now is 100 fold that of a happy light-footed man, naive and unaware.
At your most content in union with a loved one, your writing diminished, your personal creative production leveled and your real personality didn’t shine through, as it does now. This always a by product of happiness and contentedness and apparent relational utopia, all the while the brooding truth of the soul, stayed quiet and patient waiting for a chance to come out, to create and really speak again,
and through your suffering – you shall rejoice and find the best that there is once again, the wild within the peace, freedom within restraint and the wind within your cave, your darkest times are – those which shape you more than any other.
Good luck, stay strong, belief and resilience. Keep the good light coming in, stay open to it and find solstice that the human journey is ultimately universal and for those of us who embrace the truth of feelings, the truth of loss, pain and suffering, we grow far beyond those who try to avoid the experiences at all costs, far beyond those who do not dive deep into the human soul.
And in this darkest of times your community of genuine friends amasses at the footsteps of your blog, a temple place, for Captain Zeldman, to hold out these textual hands of friendship, to clutch you and reassure your soul. You are not alone.
We are with you.
Whatever else these last 12 months did to you, they also brought the best in you to the surface, for which I’m thankful. You have garnered a lot of good karma lately. Now wishing you a speedy recovery. Did I say “Thank you”? Thank you!
After reading about your past year, I now wonder if the recent redesign (ahem) of zeldman.com had its genesis in nostalgia for a simpler, better time in your life.
Mr. Zeldman, you’ve been an inspiration to me for more than a decade. To me, you set the standard not just for web development, but for thoughtfulness, truthfulness, gentility and so much more. Thank you for everything you do.
I hope this isn’t inappropriate, but I consider Carrie one of my professional inspirations as well – especially her work at the NYPL. The reasons for your split are none of my business but I sincerely wish you both well in whatever comes next.
Be well. I look forward to speaking with you in more detail soon regarding what we discussed at the close of AEA Boston recently.
[...] το Pain is my alarm clock πολλές φορές. Τον θαύμασα ξανά και ξανά. Πιστύεω ότι [...]
I know how hard it can be open up like that, especially in such a public forum, to a world of people who have no right to know these details, but I thank you for sharing, Jeffrey. Your words ring true as usual. Get well soon.
Mr. Zeldman,
Lots of positive thinking for you, I think it will be all good soon. The idea of a marriage going bad always scares me now at my 26 years, but heck, nothing’s forever.
Well damn…I guess I really have nothing to complain about.
A great and terrible post…gotta be the most genuine thing I’ve seen online in a long, long time.
This is definitely a chip in the windshield of life…but hopefully it’s one outside your field of vision.
Hang in there!
Dude, you rock. I think it’s absolutely amazing of you to share this story of yours – I feel inspired to do something not-so-much-fun I’ve, well, been putting off for no other reason than it being not fun. I’ll feel much better afterwards, I’m sure :-)
Thanks!
LOL, what a pity party for yourself, you are really going to feel bad when your company goes out of business because HTML/AJAX IS LOSING.
[...] see the pain in the bags under my iddle piggy eyes. Still, doing better than I was. [...]
With a rather morbid sense of curiosity, I read that with great interest. Following 12 months like that, I send lots of hope for the next year!
Best wishes for a speedy recovery, my friend. An inspiration you certainly are, indeed.
@m0d.ulus:
Does your mother let you talk that way at home?
You are such a great writer! Thanks for sharing your personal thoughts as well as your always incredible professional ones.
Get over yourself so called “father of the modern internet”. That’s one step away from saying you “invented” it Mr. Gore.
Do people really believe that crap?
Flash, JavaFX, Java, or SilverLight will ‘win’, not that I really need to argue about it, the biggest baddest companies in the world with the smartest people already know this and are moving that direction.
Hey guys, you want to make real money? Real Flash/Java/SilverLight developers are making 100k plus easily, good luck with that writing your CSS/XHTML that my grandma could code.
Thank you for having maturity and dignity during what is a painful process. And kudos to you for getting those landmines out of the way. :) Self-care and self-love is vital. It’s far too easy in this life (and this field) to put the whole of yourself in and neglect to take care of it.
*smooches*
Jeffery,
Thanks so much for being open and honest about your state of being.
It’s easy to find the kabuki version of the human condition everywhere I look, from people bickering about the most trivial daily living to celebrity gossip.
Thanks for standing in stark contrast to that static.
Today at a bookstore I picked up a book by Aarron Walter, Building Findable Websites, that reminded me of your own, Designing with Web Standards. Just thought I’d mention that. Plus, the fact that I never did finish reading your book when I had picked it up years ago at the public library. I’ve been considering doing so, however — when’s the 3rd edition arrive?
Don’t fret – the Five Families will take care of you.
Jeffrey, that’s deep and honest. You and your family are in my prayers.
Though I appreciate the technical/industry information I find here, my favorite have always been your personal posts. Thank you for sharing.
In a similar situation some years ago I found a great deal of comfort in reading ‘The Prophet’ by Khalil Gibran, especially the chapterOn Joy and Sorrow. The entire book is worth reading, save the first chapter or two that ’set the stage’ for the story Gibran uses to convey his thoughts.
Some of you say, “Joy is greater thar sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.” But I say unto you, they are inseparable. Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
And here I thought that I was the only one who has had those experiences. I should have known. At least I am in good company.
Jeffery, please be at one with yourself, all others, the Universe, and God.
You and all those you care about are in my prayers. Peace, life, and love, brother.
Once again, you’ve brought tears to my eyes.
Sitting next to you back at SXSWI this year, I had a feeling that there was something serious going on in your life, but I had no idea just how serious. I finally joined twitter back in April of this year, followed you shortly afterwards, and one of the first tweets I saw from you clued me in. I cried when I realized what you were going through. I wanted to reach out and give you a big hug. I was a bit surprised that your tweets were mostly personal, nevertheless, I revelled in your honesty and openness. Never mind that person who prompted “In Defense of the Low Fiber Tweet”. They are selfish and shallow minded.
My wife and I split up back in January, both agreeing that although we loved each other dearly, neither one of us was happy living with the other. Today we are better friends than ever before. Unlike you, the kids (from a prior marriage) are grown up and out of the house, but we realized that we love each other enough that we each want the other to be happy. Hell, we even go out almost every Saturday like we did when we lived together. It sounds to me like you have come to the same point in your life….a sign of intelligence and maturity.
My hat is off to you, sir, and I wish you a most speedy recovery, both physically, and emotionally. You are truly well loved and respected.
P. S. I’m glad you like the b/w NY photos.
Jeffrey,
I’ve regarded you as a friend for the ten + years I’ve been reading your blog, your books, your magazine. All this crap you’re going through makes me really sad. It’s clear from your writing that you’re a real mensch; also that you’ve been gifted with an extraordinary range of talents that brings delight and edification to others.
Anyway, glad you’re getting through it.
With much affection and high regard,
Cliff
Always been a virtual mentor to me and not just in web design. I was shocked to learn of the divorce. I honestly wish you the best and happiness. Hang in there., it only hurts when you breathe :-)
It seems like you’ve also learned well the catharsis of chronicling your pain. My heart goes out to you, friend. For what it’s worth, I will be praying for you.
Jeffery my dear, you have always been my inspiration.
Be well.
powerful post
Very glad to be hearing more of your voice lately, Jeffrey.
You are an amazing writer! Even for me as a not english-native reader/speaker (Russian-born, currently live in Israel). Pleasure to read. I feel inspired. Really.
I am always amazed at the way you manage to distill such huge experiences & passages of time into such elegant & brief snippets of prose. Thank you so much for sharing your life with us, so simply and profoundly.
I have gotten into the habit of wishing people congratulations when something earth-shattering happens in their lives, in the firm belief that the space made in your life as a result of a loss is now available to hold something even more wonderful still, that you haven’t even thought of yet.
Congratulations, Sir! For enduring, surviving, and creating every day something better and more perfect than the day before.
I’ve been reading your words here for …oh, about 10 years now i guess….and it still amazes me how you can break my heart to pieces and then put it together again and make me feel better, all in one small article.
I’m sorry that your marriage didn’t work out Jeffery….but i couldn’t be happier for you that you’re taking the time to take care of yourself, and that you’ve managed to create a healthy atmosphere with your ex in order to raise your daughter…
all the best to you and the whole family.
cheers
Tyson
[...] Zeldman gets interesting : http://www.zeldman.com/2009/07/14/pain-is-my-alarm-clock/ [...]
I was stunned that you and your wife split. Your daughter is lucky to have parents that care so much. In my experience the web will take care of itself man. Just take care of each other.
I have to respond to this, this person brought out the “East Side” in me. In case you don’t know what that means Jeffrey just ask Noel J. We pretty much roll from the same hood ;-)
@m0d.ulus: What an awlful pant load of crapulence you are. As some of us try to make the bandwidth better I begin to wonder if people want that. It is not about the technology you have, it is about the thoughts you express. *sigh*
[...] Pain is my alarm clock Today the pain woke me at 5:00 AM. One week ago today I had surgery. While most of me has bounced back, parts look like I disagreed with a mule. There is tenderness where a hernia repair botched by NYU interns 20 years ago finally got fixed. There's throbbing, tumescent, … [...]
Really enjoyed the writing in this post. This reminds me how lacking I am as of late with my own self-care. Thank you.
Sorry to hear of your trials, and glad to hear things are looking up.
Another unmet friend out here on the Web.
[...] didn’t know how to comment on Jeffrey’s article. I still [...]
[...] a fantastic blog entry by Jeffrey Zeldman, who manages to be a web design pioneer at the same time as being a truly [...]
Wow. I just read this for the first time today (two weeks after you wrote it). Your command of the situation and resolve in the face of adversity is commendable and inspiring. I’m encouraged with your determination to protect your daughter. Here’s to a bright and prosperous future!
Man, I feel for you…I’ve been through a lot of crap this year too, and it’s nice to see that there is a way and that it will get better…last summer, I was very gently told, “we’re not going to recommend you for re-enlistment into the air force you love so much because your waist measurement causes you to fail the fitness test, we know you can run fast enough & do enough push ups & sit ups, but unfortunately, your tummy is just a little too big”…well maybe not in those words, but that was the reason nonetheless…after 15 years of dedicated service to my country I was let go…my husband said, it’s okay, I’m still in and I’m never leaving you, we will be fine…continue with school…everything will work out…he left 2 months later for a remote assignment in Okinawa…slowly he became distant but always said he loved me…after 8 months, he came home for a visit…to tell me he didn’t love me anymore & wanted a divorce…really? I later got suspicious & found that he had a girlfriend over there…so there’s two bumps…had my well woman exam this summer & the doc says, so your tummy is full of fibroids, I think we should take out your uterus…what?? no children for me? I’m still so young…not fair! Then I got hired for a fantastic job taking care of cancer patients, but because they didn’t market properly (we were a new start up) we didn’t have patients & they laid us all off after 3 weeks…and now the divorce is upon me, I’ll be having to move out of our home…3 more bumps…so let’s see that’s 5 bumps in less than a year…how much more do I have to put up with before something good happens for me? sorry to rant, but I too know where you are at and it sucks…just know this, it’s become my mantra these days…Life is tough, but, we are tougher!
Take care buddy, hope all is better…
Honeybee