For we lose not only by death, but also by leaving and being left, by changing and letting go and moving on.

Because we believe ourselves to be better parents than our parents, we expect to produce better children than they produced.

[On writing her first poem at age eight:] An ode to my dead mother and father, who were both alive and pretty pissed off.

Our early lessons in love and our developmental history shape the expectations we bring into marriage.

Craving that old sweet oneness yet dreading engulfment, wishing to be our mother's and yet be our own, we stormily swing from mood to mood, advancing and retreating-the quintessential model of two-mindedness.

Just as children, step by step, must separate from their parents, we will have to separate from them. And we will probably suffer...from some degree of separation anxiety: because separation ends sweet symbiosis. Because separation reduces our power and control. Because separation makes us feel less needed, less important. And because separation exposes our children to danger.

I had it together on Sunday. By Monday at noon it had cracked. On Tuesday debris Was descending on me. And by Wednesday no part was intact. On Thursday I picked up some pieces. On Friday I picked up the rest. By Saturday, late, It was almost set straight. And on Sunday the world was impressed With how well I had got it together.