From The First Time We Met, We

What I Know Now About Life Is This: Your Mother Is A Part Of Everything You Do And Everything You Are.

She Waited For You In A Thousand Different Ways.

I Guess No One Stays Friends For More Than Thirty Years Without Broken Hearts Along The Way.

Before This Trip And All That She'd Learned About The Three Of Them, She Would Have Gotten Angry Or Changed The Subject. Anything To Obscure The Pain She Felt. Now She Knew Better. You Carried Your Pain With You In Life. There Was No Outrunning It.

It Was The Magic Hour, The Moment In Time When Every Leaf And Blade Of Grass Seemed To Separate, When Sunlight, Burnished By The Rain And Softened By The Coming Night, Gave The World An Impossibly Beautiful Glow.