In any lifetime, there are dividing events, the Before, the After. In my years, the most recent schism is Before Cancer and Everything Else. But the most profound? Before Motherhood, and the clanging, crying, joyous Everafterward, my truest realm. Happiest of birthdays; spring is in the offing, darling.

A child is born and doesn't know what day it is.
The particular joy in my heart she cannot imagine.
The taste of apricots is in store for her. — Nan Cohen