Had dinner the other night to celebrate the work of the new book before it launches. A friend had snuck over to the house and dropped a gift certificate at our front door. She had no idea. This place. My parents were standing exactly here every week (Wednesday nights I think?) for years while we kids sat at the tables eating copious amounts of free pub cheese. This same place where we gathered with Osh's (my dad) friends and loved ones to celebrate his life after he passed. Last night we had the place to ourselves and as the snow fell I ate the twice baked potato and the steak and the brownie fudge sundae. Each bite savored, bittersweet. Celebration and grief and remembrance all mixed up.

I ran my hands along the table that 16 year old me touched. What could I say to her thirty years later? Life is going to be hard and so, so different than you thought. But it's a good life. There is joy in the sorrow and peace in the dark.