Popsicle and puzzle

 I can’t even post, really. Sometimes it’s too much. 

But here’s a picture. A space holder. Evidence of the good. 

We keep on. 

Okay, I'm going to try and mark those three wonderful days when my niece, her husband, and their magical child were here from Dallas with us, because together we created the kinds of experiences that help us keep on, that help us remember that even when the news is too terrible to bear—the lynched boy on a college campus down south who they tried to say hanged himself; the warrantless nighttime raid on an apartment building in Chicago, with doors bashed in and apartments trashed and naked children, citizens of this country, zip tied and thrown into UHaul vans with their bewildered and terrified parents; the 44-boat flotilla bringing food to a starving people, only to have their mission of mercy violently thwarted by the marauding state, and dear god, who prevents the delivery of food to people who are dying of starvation; the answer, of course, is those who are intent on their expiration—even when all that makes the heart heavy as lead, there are still those memories we made with this precious little girl last weekend, and we must not lose sight of such goodness. So here's another photo for posterity. We women, all of the tribe of Gloria, each one of us just a bit OCD, crowded around a jigsaw puzzle and who but little Harper sat in our midst, matching pieces with the rest of us, three generations of women folk in this meditation we all enjoy. It was lovely.