I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be truly free.

Every moment is an opportunity to be new again to the world.

Sometimes I can’t figure out if things are completely falling apart or finally coming together.

Nothing else matters . . . nothing whatsoever.

It’s become our sacred ground.  Every visit to the creek feeds my soul, and hers too.

Home is so where my heart is right now.

I wish I had a tougher skin, but the truth is her words really hurt me. 

It feels so good to be getting back on my feet again.

They were probably doing it because it was Mother’s Day, or maybe they were just playing to the camera.  Whatever the reason —  I needed to suspend the moment in time.

She has a way of seeing right through me.  Do all mothers of twelve year-olds feel this way?