And the day didn't start as peacefully as it looks; my heart like the roaring brook that spills into the sea. Riled up, my emotions, running over rocks in my head. I complicate things. I am a mother. My emotions run over, they spill over, they are too much at times. I think too much, I feel too much. I can walk all I want on a morning like today in the most peaceful of places. But I cannot always be at peace. Except, I did stay a long time. I swam, of course. I threw the stick again and again for Charlie as far as I could into the Sound and he retrieved it. And I went further than usual, I wanted to rub the soft clay on my limbs and rinse it and play with the handful, and round it and mold it, and cup it in my hand, and fill it with salt water and hold it, and hold on. But, then I did walk home, hot and tired up the stairs from the beach, up the buggy hot dirt road, I walked and walked home for happy news, life-changing news, news of a late night drive my son took with his "girl" to Katama after dark last night in the convertible. Under a starry sky, he asked. And she said yes. And home from the beach she found me at my computer and asked, "would you like another family member?" Indeed. Indeed I would. They've chosen well. Now I have this brand new role to grow into: mother-in-law. Good heavens. I will hope I can do it well. My mother did this role well. My parents loved the partners their children chose: they always felt like their family doubled in size. They had 10 children, not five anymore. They opened their home and their hearts and their minds. I'm grateful to my parents for this modeling. And for welcoming growth and change in the family. For wanting us to be happy, and trusting, and respecting, and celebrating our choices. This gave us so many, many good years for raising our kids together.