1. For making it safely home tonight in that–Holy Snowsquall, Batman! What in the world WAS that? Okay, so this is supposed to be a gratitude, and I am grateful to be home safely, and the words that I want to use for that stuff out there I don’t want my mother to read on my blog.
2. For my five-years-old-today boy who steals my heart every single day, whose journey here was no less perilous than the evening’s icy drive.
3. For the midwife and doulas and friends and sister and Jon and nurses and finally the surgeon who helped get him here safely on that day so long ago, not so long ago.
4. For the rain on my river this morning as we crossed the bridge. My river, remember, like you are my friends: it’s not about domination and ownership, but about a statement of relationship. Then what am I to her? I am her daughter? Her admirer? Her acolyte, her friend, her dreamer, her observer, her watcher.
5. Simply for this day. I will never see it again. It’s gone now and we have all grown up that much more, and my memory that swears to remember every sweet moment–the tiny voice of a boy counting to thirty in hide-and-seek, the bright eyes, the rich conversations, the singing (oh, the singing)–that memory cannot encompass it all and hold it forever. So I will swear to hold the Beauty even when my feeble memory lets it trickle into the haze.
May we walk in Beauty! May you find something, each day, to love and treasure, amid whatever pain and challenge your life hands you. May a bright yellow flower call your name, may a stranger offer you an open smile, may the breeze kiss your cheek. Walk in Beauty.