My mother came over the other day right as I was lying the kids down for their naps.

She waited for me on the couch and when I finally sat down beside her,

she looked at me in a way she never had before.

She told me she was sorry.

 I don’t remember if she grabbed me by the hands but it felt like she did.

Like she led me up to a dark, dusty place in her heart.

An attic filled with boxes of things from the past.

To the clunky projector,

regrets like old silent movies spinning over and over again in her mind.

 We sat there together holding hands in our hearts and we watched.

See Katie, I lived my life like it was mine, and you kids were just along for the ride.

But what I know now is,

you were the ride.

My mother came over to tell me she was sorry, but I wanted to tell her thank you.

Because in her apology, in her honesty about her past, she was giving me a future.

She was giving me something that only a mother can.

Life.

The gift of right now.

All the little things that are happening are really the big things that are happening.

The place I am trying to get to is where I already am.

This is it.

This is the ride.

I don’t want to miss it…