A visit to my hometown can sometimes, without warning, surprise me with an emotional gut punch. I have so many good memories, places, people, and moments to remember with gratitude and fondness, but there are times when something as benign as a landmark can lay bare the darker side of my history.

An unfamiliar and uninvited quiet settles over Cedar Ridge. We will always be friends, but it was a privilege and joy to be neighbors. To walk over in pajamas for coffee and mom talk over Paw Patrol and sibling fights. To turn from my work and find Bo at my side with a fist full of flowers and a sloppy sweet kiss at the ready. To listen to the girls giggle

When I was a young mom, my grandfather told me parenting is a roller coaster. That I just needed to hold on and remember that there are ups and downs on every ride. I think he’s right; it’s a wicked but exciting roller coaster. It looks, from the waiting line below, like so much fun. We, the mass of unsuspecting first-timers, apprehensively yet hopefully, search the faces of the finishers for signs of what to expect; they seem all smiles, if not a little dizzy and green. So we wait with anticipation