I read something the other day that absolutely felled me. It was simple, maybe a little stupid. It was this: There was a day your parents put you back down and never picked you up again.
I thought about that obvious little sentence for the better part of a day, turned it over and thought about how one day I will put my children down and never pick them up again. And then I lifted Zoey who is almost as tall as I am and kind of cuddle-dragged her to make a sandwich with me, hummus and greens, lots of mustard.
I know. How can I be gone for over 3 months and come back with no explanation, talking of mustard?
We'll get to that later.
Today was the first day of school, so there was also this:
And of course:
Third grade and preschool, the smell of fresh paint and new backpacks, things that make me feel clasped and familiar.
But that. The other. I know. I don't mean to be coy--I detest coy--I swear I will tell you soon. For now I will just say this: there was a day I was put down and never picked up again, but I am trying very hard to pick myself up, and I thank you for your kind comments and emails. In the meantime, let's make friends with the elephant in the room. He's really quite nice.