Eventually, Everything Goes Away.

As I Got Older, I Discovered That Nothing Within Me Cried Out For A Baby. My Womb Did Not Seem To Have Come Equipped With That Famously Ticking Clock. Unlike So Many Of My Friends, I Did Not Ache With Longing Whenever I Saw An Infant. (though I Did Ache With Longing, It Is True, Whenever I Saw A Good Used-book Shop)

I'm A Pleaser. That's My Character.

When Catherine Told Me About This (tragedy Nearby), I Could Only Say, Shocked, "dear God, That Family Needs Grace." She Replied Firmly, "that Family Needs Casseroles," And Then Proceeded To Organize The Entire Neighborhood Into Bringing That Family Dinner, In Shifts, Every Single Night, For An Entire Year. I Do Not Know If My Sister Fully Recognizes That This _is_ Grace.

Teach Your Heart That This Is Destiny

Until-as Often Happened During Those First Months Travel, Whenever I Would Feel Such Happiness-my Guilt Alarm Went Off. I Heard My Ex-husband's Voice Speaking Disdainfully In My Ear: So This Is What You Gave Up Everything For? This Is Why You Gutted Our Entire Life Together? For A Few Stalks Of Asparagus And An Italian Newspaper? I Replied Aloud To Him: "first Of All," I Said, "i'm Very Sorry, But This Isn't Your Business Anymore. And Secondly, To Answer You Question...yes.