More later on the trip but it was as usual: the softest place to fall. Bonus: Noah-friendly activities.
Right now at this moment I still have that grief right at the front that this is the date of Emily’s death. And yet, home: late afternoon sun streaming in the front window over the sprouting seeds for the small surburban garden; Noah playing with his toys on the floor; Carl and I both languid from our holiday, with no agenda yet opened before us, and love almost palpable in the room — this is happiness. Pure and true.
