My crazy, loud, loving extended family I had dinner with tonight.
My only slightly less crazy, still loud, loving parents and sister out in Portland.
The ability to make gravy that tastes just like my dad’s.
Cars that run reliably.
An apartment that smells like home.
Down comforters, windows that seal against the wind and bedside lamps.
Friends who give me books, conversation, unconditional love and brunch the next day.
A former love who has become a friend.
Paying attention to the family stories as child, when the people who lived them were still alive to tell them.
Music played live and voices raised in song.
An invitation to eat leftovers tomorrow with even more family.
Life.