Today I didn’t go to the concert of a very dear friend, although I had tickets. I just couldn’t. Even good emotions can be too much. I know she’ll understand. Maybe, it’s a form of trust: knowing that people will still love you when you don’t show up, that they’ll hold you when you screw up.

Instead, I went for a long walk with my son, who turned five today. He was originally supposed to be born on the second of February. That week between his due date and his actual birth date I walked a lot in the company of my tireless mother in law. I remember that we went to the movies and that on February 5 we were walking along Ontario street in Hochelaga and the day was warm and sunny, but nowhere as warm as today. I remember feeling impatient and stressed, but also eerily happy, in this liminal space between “normal” life and sleepless euphoria of new motherhood. My kids have definitely given me the most profound experiences of time I ever knew.

Also, today we went to listen to the brook singing, twice.