I need to stop and see the little things – because I can walk into a room in this apartment and immdiately feel peace. The lighting coming through the windows, the trees swaying in the breeze out my kitchen window.

There are beautiful and fleeting things that I dare myself to catch before they’re gone.

It’s hard to keep the floors free of food or paper bits or sand. There’s almost always a trail of trucks or teddies all over the house and marker caps? We specialize in their grave yard. Yet for small moments almost every single day – in the midst of cramping together, huddling in this apartment, touching and breathing each other … it all makes perfect sense.

It’s a beautiful mess.

And I’ll have fantasies about this sink for the rest of my life.

And taste the sun ripened vanilla beans in every pancake, cookie and cake for all time.

And recount many hours daydreaming, fort building, praying, playing and dancing in this house. Half an address, half a destination.

I can see the finish line and now I’m sprinting.