I sometimes jot down notes so I don’t forget the emotions I’m feeling in a particular moment and can write in more detail later. But after rereading these from last Friday morning, I don’t really want to.

Sheers in the windows. Blowing. Picture of AnnLisa’s painting. Quiet. Annie eating in the kitchen. Ruthie sleeping. Gertie on my stomach, going over the sounds animals make. Crying. Praying. Hoping. Patting my head. Touching my tears. Did she understand? Resigning again to this life. Accepting solitude. Cider with Rosie. The Browns and their crumbling home. Who would know their story if not for Laurie writing about them? Lump in my throat. Living quietly. Contently. What will that look like with Gertie.