I keep coming back to this picture, in the way you do when a picture tries to tell you something but you can’t quite figure out what.

And then today the story unfolded.

I have the chance to talk to my sister and we laugh about the ways we are alike. I am grateful for this time in my life when saying I’m sorry comes easily, when I can let down my defenses and be honest, when I can say what needs to be said from a place of love.

We did not win the genetic sweepstakes. Every so often we deal with fierce migraines that send us to bed, covers over our heads. We battle our weight and seek to tame our natural curls. We dance with anxiety and insecurity and self-doubt and work hard to reassure ourselves that we are enough. We know that dementia may live in our future just as surely as it resides within our mother.   

And yet, days like this one remind us what it must feel like to win the lottery – when unexpected treasure comes your way and you feel good just to be alive.