The First Boy Was Always The Hardest.

No, No, No To Tallyho.

I Wondered If Emotions Were Like Menstrual Cycles, If You Get Enough Women Together. Give It Time, And Everyone Was Crying.

She Bought Seeds And Raided Nurseries And Mulched And Composted And Spent Full Days With Her Hands Full Of Earth, Coaxing Life Our Of The Dry, Dull Grass My Father Had Spent Years Pushing A Mower Over.

You Can't Love Anyone That Way More Than Once In A Lifetime. It's Too Hard And It Hurts Too Much When It Ends.

Her Life Was Perfect. But As Was Often The Case, The Rest Of Us Were Still Adjusting.