What was on the wall that day.
Tomatoes warm from the sun.
Hearing geese overhead.
I learned to swim at the Y in Worcester. The lifeguard's name was Janet. She bribed me with M&Ms.
Saw a luna moth on the porch screen. Took my breath.
Loon call across the lake at dawn.
A new word I love and can't wait to use.
My father's reading glasses on the kitchen table. Always there. Always slightly crooked. I have them in a drawer.
My pharmacist remembered my mother's name and asked how she was doing.
A meadow full of black-eyed Susans.
The barista remembered I prefer oat milk. I almost cried into the cup.
My mother painted the porch every spring. The same blue. Always the same blue.
I'm grateful my body finally accepted the new medication. I have a chance now.