When I drive down the street in my neighborhood I know where I am.
Things are familiar, places have meaning, I can find my way home.
When I wait in front of the school I no longer stand alone.
I am greeted by name, smiled at, related to, told secrets.
When I see my girls at recess, they are in community.
There is laughter, relationship, a shared moment in time with someone who is
becoming a part of them.
My world is bigger now.
There are more faces and more names.
There are smatterings of push-pins that mark significant places and times.
My story is changing.
It doesn’t read the same way.
There were parts of it I never liked anyway.