Do you know what the pattern is? No, you do not, because there is no pattern.
You graduate from college a semester late. Your mother angrily advises you not to marry him, but you get married anyway.
The promotions come. Melbourne, Richmond, Bartlesville, Jackson, Memphis. Until the closures come.
You never really wanted a baby (gasp), but there she was, all puffy and pink and amazing.
You quit work and threw yourself into motherhood with conviction and desperation to craft every detail perfect, sublime and well groomed.
But here’s the thing. Your hair is turning white. That man you should not have married still makes you smile and feel all beautiful inside. And that amazing baby is a way more awesome young woman.
When you think it is Spring
Big, beautiful, sparkly flakes float down from Heaven
There is no pattern
All we really get is love.