I love you, Brad Atwood

I’ve been at my friend’s this summer in Providence, working on a research grant. Working, working, working–and then this…….

Yesterday morning, my friend, A., had a little stack of NY Times on the kitchen table with a pink heart made of construction paper she’d cut out and put on top. Coffee was brewing and lemon scones in the oven. It was the kitchen my children and her children had raced through since babydom, stopping for moments of tamari almonds and cheese quesadillas and there in the kitchen was the melding of past and present and so much love offered and received and given back again. The NY Times thing was a real bougie high—we laughed because, even though they’d interviewed us, we didn’t think we’d get in. But there was A.’s little stack. It was surreal, something private made public.

More than mid-way through life, to become hopeful again. And surrounded by our extended family friends in one of my fave cities. A wedding. What a surprise. I love this new phase of life with you, Brad Atwood xo

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