What was on the wall that day.
My niece running to meet me at the door.
The afternoon my mother taught me to drive standard. Down a dirt road. Stalls. Laughter. Coffee in a paper cup.
A barn owl at the open hayloft door.
My mom keeps my baby teeth in a small box. Whole box.
A handwritten address on an envelope.
Found a twenty in a coat pocket I haven't worn since spring. Spring me is generous.
Finding my favorite mug in the back of the cabinet.
A blanket on the couch within reach.
My toddler learned the word grateful this week and says it about everything: socks, oranges, sleep.
My partner saved the lining of my grandmother's coat to make me a pillow.
Pulling fresh basil from the windowsill plant.
My oldest friend called from a hospital in another city just to say happy birthday. She was fine. She remembered.