Oh, yes, I mean that so hard. Thank youse (which is Chicago for “y’all”). For picking up my pieces by telling me your own mishaps, around our grown up campfire. For calling me back from way Up North and far out West, and just the other side of the Beltline – and soothing all my ruffled feathers back into wings that will be sky-worthy again tomorrow.
Now tonight, I’ll just think about your voices, and how lucky I am to find kindness without even asking. And flowers in mid-October still reaching for light and air, beaming with confidence that whatever they need will be given, in return for another day becoming.