Let me count one by one the things that I am grateful for:

It is full moon

The spring came early

The birds are starting their wedding rites

We are one week away from Spring equinox

The sup is running, the water is running, my children are running on the way home from school

My son is giggling his happy laugh turning the pages of his brand new anthology of the universe

And I am reading Ada Limon’s poems next to him.

I am holding all of you in my heart. I am holding everything that is wrong. Every heartbreak. Every absence. Please, don’t think that just because I feel happy at this precise intersection of time (an evening of early spring) and space (at the foot of a child’s bed) I forgot about you.

I am tucking you in safely under the blanket. Caressing you in a circular motion. Sleep, I whisper, it will be ok tomorrow.

There will be Spring equinox, then Summer solstice. There will be long twilights after the sunset. Early mornings. Birdsong. Light bugs in the dark summer garden. It will be enough, I whisper, it will be enough.