It wasn’t just that I was sorry to see them go, though of course I was. Melina, my oldest friend, and her daughter Luci, my youngest goddaughter, had been visiting since Thursday–long enough that we’d normally experience the luxury of getting on each other’s nerves, especially since my railroad apartment is ideally occupied by one person at a time.
But I never minded their presence this time. I didn’t mind because I love them, and because, for the first time since my 30s, I’d grown accustomed to sharing space and time with a person I loved. Continue Reading →