The heat and stickiness of the day, the endless whining of the kids, the long drive to the nursery. But now: other, more vivid memories crowd those out. Wandering through a small forest of trees to pick the perfect Maple, picking out more flowers to plant in the backyard, talking in the car as the heat-spent kids quiet down, luxuriating in time spent together as a family – something we never seem to do enough. My mind can’t twist around the fact that we’ll get to watch this tree grow in our yard – that in ten years it’ll be big enough for the kids to climb and to cast a shadow.
A Pattern of Words 
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