I can't believe it really. I must be the luckiest girl. Or I must have done something right. To deserve this. All of it. The Black Dirt. The CSA. Lucy. Lauren. Dan, the Fruit Man. Jacob, my son. Who will be 21 tomorrow. It can't be. I can't believe it really. I must be the luckiest girl. To have a son like him.
And so we are all sons and daughters. How many parents are proud of their sons and daughters? Or do we just fret? And worry? Because it is so much easier to fret and worry than to have confidence in them. In nature. It's just the nature of life to grow. All we do is plant those seeds. Tend them slightly with great intentions of tending them more. But somehow they survive. And thrive. Because of us and in spite of us. And they grow so tall. We look up to them. And wonder. Are they really ours?
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