A Pretty Happy Mother's Day

So, here it is, and I'm not even crying. Thinking a lot of Miranda today, our miscarried baby of 2 years ago, but I'm not feeling like I'll drown in sadness. I had fun making that Box O' Art for my Mom, and she liked it a lot. I'm sure my Dad asked "What does it do?" being the engineer he is. Don't worry, Dad, I'm not planning on making you art for Father's Day! Unless you want it. I know, tho, it has to be functional...

Church wasn't too horrible, tho I did fear it would be a love fest for Mothers. It's not that I begrudge the mothers, the dears, I just envy them and feel a hole in my heart that I'm not one of them. Yet.

J. found out he's going to San Jose for a work conference soon, which is so bizarre. I mean, San Jose is like this mythical place in my mind now, because I haven't been back there, since, well, I think since we left when I was 10. Maybe I was back there one time since then, but it's hard to remember because I dream about being there so much that I can hardly distinguish the two. Except for maybe the flying dreams, I know those are--yeah, dreams. I have this flying dream where I'm running down the hill (through the intersection where Suzy got hit on her tricycle and had stitches across her stomach that she showed everyone) and past our house, and I lift my arms and I just take off, into the blue. There's this funny perspective I get in dreams a lot that just doesn't seem physically possible when I wake up and think about it: I'm up really high and looking down and across at the whole city below me and I can see everything close-up at the same time as far away.