Blessings

Apropos of nothing - or, perhaps, everything - I'm lucky. Stupid lucky. Crazy lucky. Looking around wondering what strange heaven this is lucky. I'm as unscarred as a post-infertility parent has a right to be. Probably less scarred than perhaps I should be. Unknown people inside the computer probably hate me. I can live with this (as if I had a choice), though there are days I bow my head in some unearned guilt.

Guilt over my beautiful son, and the relative ease with which he came into my life. Relative meaning drugs and needles instead of sunsets and sparkling wine, but yes, relative ease.

My baby who is rapidly, frighteningly rapidly, leaving his babyhood behind him.

He is my every blessing. My unearned blessing. My son's generous love of me overwhelms.

His very existence overwhelms.

I'm lucky every day. Some days I just feel it more. My luck calls out to me like a wolf howl on the wind, carrying messages of mystery and beauty.

Apropos of nothing I'm feeling lucky tonight. Grateful beyond words. Blessed. Loved. Humbled.

Thank you. To whom can I send out my thanks? Do I thank fate? God? Dr. L? Small Boy? Chance? The universe? I don't know. But I send out my thanks, like a wolf howl on the wind, and my thanks will carry and sharp ears will hear me.

And blessings will come howling back.