getting baptized in the river and knowing that your mother was baptized there and your children will be too

the peace of being with God on foggy mornings

the mountains are calling for you to make a home here, aching down into your bones because mountain air is in your blood

kids being raised communally because it takes a village

being the designated family babysitter, kids running around your feet all day and they have your grandmother’s eyes

dirt is on the kitchen floor, but the table is clean and the food is warm

feeding the dogs barefoot, your feet soaking wet from the morning dew

your dad chops wood for the fireplace and then whittles with the scraps

being wrapped up in your great granny’s crochet quilt. you never met her, but the love inside the yarn transcends time

across from your front porch, there’s a doe with big brown eyes and two speckled fawns. the two of you understand each other only in the way that two women can

learning your old family traditions and making new ones every day