Rest easy, real mothers. The very fact that you worry about being a good mom means that you already are one.

I remember for that one moment, I believe I was hitch hiking on one of those comets, falling so fast that I'd surely burn away before I ever hit the ground.

You know how hind-sight is 20/20? Love is when you look back and wouldn't change anything.

But I didn't frame it; I put into an envelope and sealed it and stuffed it far back into a corner drawer of a filing cabinet. It's there, just in case one of these days I start to lose her. There might be a morning when I wake up and her face isn't the first thing I see. Or a lazy August afternoon when I can't quite recall anymore where the freckles were on her right shoulders. Maybe one of these days, I will not be able to listen to the sound of snow falling and hear her footsteps.

It's choice that makes us human.

Things don't always look as they seem.

How far can a person go... and still live with himself.