How it is May already God only knows. Laura’s mom and I met for lunch this afternoon and at some point I asked her if she ever looks back on the earlier mom days and wonder? She said she does, and we both agree that they some of the hardest days of our life, and at the same time gave us some of the best memories. This is something my kids don’t get, and felt like something my class didn’t get when I was talking.

But she did. I will look back and think sometimes, “This was my life’s work. Nothing will ever top this.” I mean in the joy. And I don’t mean it so much as a sad thing as in it’s something that I’m losing. The joy is something that is lasting and grows, and you think to yourself, “How does this happen?” How does a memory produce tears, but this time the tears are not bitter. They are honoring the love that changed my heart.

The tears have been more lately. When I placed a picture in my project that I later took down because it felt like a brag. So many of those pictures were mostly for me. They were my way of staying present and whole when time would’ve crushed me and blew me away. That’s what it’s like, like I’m blowing away, and somehow becoming one with the earth, to keep on nourishing and keep on feeding, to keep on loving in ways.