(In loss, I have never felt so loved.)
We were raised by our Mothers, and they by theirs, to be good people who are good to people.
We were raised with others like us, those we’ve known for as long as we’ve breathed, and others we left Putnam County to find.
When I read what you’ve written to me, and not only to me but to others, I remember when Mom said there was no one more lucky than we are lucky- to have each other, and each of our others.
You are so present.
You are at once so grounded and unafraid of flight.
There is no one more lucky than me, to have who I came with and who I collected, and to see you daily through the interconnect.
I love you and I love how you love me and I love how you love each other.
If we looked in on love like this, at like-minded like-hearted neighbors, we would ask each other
how could they exist?
How could they be so authentic and kind.
And how could they be us.