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            The other day I was driving through my neighborhood when The Clash’s “Should I Stay or Should I Go?” came on the radio. The first guitar chords of this song instantly take me back to eighth grade, where at the height of cool, I opted to write the lyrics of this tune on my yellow Tretorns. I wasn’t a complete rebel because I wrote in pencil, but I still thought those lyrics coupled with an anarchy sign certified me as a badass. 

            Thinking about that girl as I drove my sweet minivan made me laugh, and then I realized that I was wearing Tretorns. Sure, they’re now a fancy gold color and there’s no writing on them to be found, but they’re still Tretorns, and I’m still that girl. So many parts of me are the same, and the parts that are different simply evolved from that nerdy eighth grader with a bad perm. 

            I’ve been thinking a lot about aging lately because vastly different levels of it surround me. There are my 10-year-old twins who have entered tweendom in full force. Graydon has embraced sarcasm, and Margot is obsessed with clothes. (That apple did not fall far from the hanger.) It’s fun to watch them explore who they are and who they want to be. 

            Then there’s my dad and my in-laws. Dad misses mom terribly, and I’m right there with him (this year is so much worse than the first one), and my father-in-law has had a rough seven months with Parkinson’s, a bastard of a disease. Though my mother-in-law’s strength is astounding, everyone has a breaking point, whether they realize it in time or not. I worry.

            Right smack dab in the middle of all this are my husband and I. He’s 50, and I’m not far behind him. As we run the circle of life together, I frequently visit adolescent Lori in my mind. When I worry about what the pandemic is doing to my kids, I think back to how I thought when I was a pre-teen. By that point I had discovered anxiety, so I would have been frightened by how strange the world is right now. But I also would have escaped my fear by focusing on important things like Rick Springfield, Judy Blume books and pondering whom I’d have on my TV Christmas special. (I continue to do that to this day. I’m looking at you Michael Bublé!)

            And then there’s Christmas, a time when holiday memories take up some major real estate in my brain. Christmas connects me to my youth more than a scrapbook. I still search for candy cane pens as soon as Christmas decorations are in stores because they remind me of going to McCrory’s at Carolina Mall with mom to pluck one off of the store’s cardboard Christmas tree. I still listen solely to Christmas music until New Year’s Day, and my Snoopy ornaments hang prominently on our tree, just as they did at my parents’ house. Holiday trends come and go, but my traditions are just that — mine. 

            The girl who wrote on her Tretorns is embedded in me; she just has a lot more layers than she did back then. Now, she’s a composite of scars, life lessons, joy, depression, triumphs and daydreams. Regardless of where I am or where I’m going, my younger self will always be there to remind me of who I am and how I got there. I couldn’t ask for a better travel companion.         

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            If you haven’t heard, I am now a dog owner. Sunflower Elizabeth Tate (Sunny) came into our lives on August 16, and she is the ultimate Wink of Goodness. Our precious fur ball is a lab/corgi mix, which I have since learned makes her a corgidor, and she is most likely the best dog that’s ever lived. Am I bias? Not at all. Did I show her picture to two friends in my exercise class this morning? Yes, I did. 

            She is all that and a bag of chips, but as much as I wanted a dog (and I’ve wanted one for 48 years), I was equally terrified about having one. Holding her on my lap as we drove away from the rescue farm reminded me of driving home from the hospital with newborn twins. But just as The Tots survived their first night with us, so did Sunny, and since that first day, we have learned a lot about each other. 

            For example, she’s not jazzed about sleeping in her crate, she prefers walking with groups of people as opposed to one person and she’s never met a cardboard box she didn’t like. I’ve also discovered things we have in common like napping, being outside and tilting our heads. Then there are our differences. Sunny enjoys eating pinecones; I prefer crackers, and she occasionally pees on the carpet, something I’ve never been into. 

            Regardless, we are having a splendid time getting to know each other, and cuddling with her ranks up there with a Nordstrom shopping spree or a romantic comedy on a rainy afternoon. But as much as I love her, and my husband claims that I love her more than him, I’ve struggled a little with being called a “Dog Mom.” 

            Two of my best friends gave me “Dog Mom” hats for my birthday, and I love to wear them, but I don’t want people to forget that I’m a “Cat Mom” too. When I tell people I have a puppy, I often hear the “dogs are better than cats” story. I obviously think dogs are fantastic, but I also think cats are, too — and that’s okay. 

            Too many times people think things have to be black and white. I learned a long time ago what a beautiful color gray is. Being one way or the other is extremely limiting, while coasting in and out of sides allows you to glean what you works best for you. The result? An interesting individual with more twists and turns than a mountain road.

            I don’t have to tell you how divided our society is — on so many levels. There’s masks, there’s politics, there’s race relations, there’s school, there’s barbecue (vinegar-based for me, but I can eat tomato-based), there’s how you hang your toilet paper (I’m an overt girl, but I’m cool with it if you’re not). 

            We spend so much time taking hard stances on things when we should instead be taking time to hear the other side out. It’s a sad state of affairs because the other side might have insight that can help you or at least give you a better understanding. 

            That said, I guess I should wear a hat that reads “Pet Mom” because I love all three of my furry creatures. They lift my spirits in countless ways, whether it’s jumping on the dining room chair to join us for dinner (cat), snuggling with me during a nap (both — individually) or playing fetch in the yard (dog). Cats and dogs offer more entertainment and love that I could have ever imagined, making me a big fan of the color gray. 

Every Friday I share the Winks of Goodness I experienced throughout the week because I’ve found that writing down and formally acknowledging these suckers gives them more power. I encourage you to share your own Weekly Winks on my site or on social media. Look around and write it down — share the goodness.   

Saturday — We celebrated my 48^thbirthday with dear friends and our precious new puppy, Sunflower (Sunny for short). She is the best doggie ever!

Sunday — Today, I just checked stuff off of my to-do list, and it’s embarrassing how much joy that brings to me. #middleage

Monday — During lunch I was listening to the radio and Mr. Sandman by The Chordettes came on. My mother used to sing this song all the time, and it’s super rare to ever hear it. I know it was her giving me the pat on the back I needed. 

Tuesday — A goldfinch landed on our neighbor’s fountain this morning. 

Wednesday — I splurged on a new exercise mat, and it is all that and a bag of chips. Now to stop puppy from biting it!

Thursday — I “taught” five kids in our pod today. These kids are giving it their all even though they so want to be on campus with their friends and teachers. COVID, go away!

Friday — I survived the second week of virtual learning! God bless everyone out there trying to make this work! We’ll get there!

            Get outside, look for goodness and savor it, friends! Happy weekend!

So the last couple of weeks have been a bit surreal, but that’s fitting because the past year has been the most surreal year I’ve ever lived through. And I’ve lived through 48 of them. That’s right, last week I celebrated a birthday that rhymes with my last name, which no one probably thinks about but me. I’m okay with that. 

            My birthdays have always been a big deal. Blame it on being an only child, blame it on being a lake kid with a summer birthday or just blame it on me loving all of the attention. You pick. Regardless, my past two birthdays have been strange. Last year, I sat by my ailing mother’s bedside — she died two days later. This year The Tots and I (and John) started settling into virtual school, knowing the anniversary of my mom’s death was coming up. We’re all doing our best, but it’s not easy.

            The coronavirus has tainted everything with its invisible power. Just try to think of someone or something it hasn’t affected. You can’t. The flipside of this off-the-chart wacky year is that it’s made me notice everything, good or bad, a little bit more. Even though my eyesight is diminishing as my age increases, I can see things more clearly than ever. Here are 48 things I’ve learned during my recent trip around the sun. 

48. Walking in nature can fix whatever is bothering you. 

47. I’m not a neat person. I want to be, but I’m just not.

46. Facemasks cause acne, but you should still wear one. 

45. Carpool was one of my favorite things. 

46. I need more patience. 

45. Non-brand clothes on Amazon are surprisingly cute and affordable much of the time. 

44. The Vegan Bites at Publix are really cookies, but I keep telling myself they’re healthy treats. Okay, healthyish. 

43. Dogs are much more successful at waking me up than alarm clocks ever were. 

42. I can do hard things. 

41. Some things really are all about money even when they shouldn’t be. 

40. I liked the word “pivot” better when it was used in my dance class growing up. 

39. People will believe anything. 

38. Helping people is the best way to help yourself. 

37. So many of us, including me, are spoiled. 

36. Sitting outside with a good book is pretty much heaven for me. 

35. Sitting outside at Bald Head Island IS heaven for me. 

34. Opportunity usually arrives as a surprise. 

33. I can enjoy church on YouTube — at least until I can go back. 

32. Friends are everything. 

31. Acquaintances are everything else. 

30. I really love Cool Whip (the store brand). Don’t judge me!

29. The Tots are growing up. 

28. There is such a thing as being too scared. 

27. The world won’t end if I don’t complete my daily to-do list. 

26. Cats and dogs can live together. Adverb to be determined. 

25. Things happen in life that you never thought would happen. 

24. Not all restaurants do take-out well. God bless them for trying though. 

23. Some people can change. 

22. It’s okay to pick the low-hanging fruit sometimes. 

21. Gray hair can look a lot like blonde hair. 

20. People need to be with each other. 

19. Just because you’ve always done something one way doesn’t mean you have to do it that way. 

18. Husbands who can fix things are the best. 

17. Husbands who love you when you’re crazy are even better. 

16. Some things really were meant to be. 

15. Some things aren’t. 

14. People will surprise you if you let them. 

13. I’m not as terrible with technology as I previously thought. 

12. It’s okay to lower your expectations, especially during a pandemic. 

11. Julia Sugarbaker will always be my hero, even though I have a little bit of Suzanne in me, too. 

10. Butterflies mean everything. 

9. Seltzer water is one of my favorite things on the planet. Yes, I’d love another Bubly. Thank you! 

8. I’m proud of where I came from even though there are parts of it I don’t understand.

7. Some folks won’t be in your life forever. 

6. Some folks will. 

5. Anything can be political. 

4. My children are smarter than me, and I’m okay with that.

3. I don’t let myself have enough fun. 

2. Brené Brown is a genius. 

1. I had no idea how much my mother taught me until she was gone.

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I want a dog. I’ve always wanted a dog, and with the exception of few weeks in third grade when a stray lived with us, I’ve never had a dog as a pet.  

            A little backstory here. My mom and dad were amazing parents, but they just weren’t into dogs or any kind of high-maintenance pet. Dad would always say we traveled too much, which worked as an excuse until I grew old enough to realize that we didn’t travel all that much. My husband, John, who grew up with a dog (Sam) and loves dogs, consistently points out the responsibility involved and references how cats are so much easier. 

            I love cats. I love our cats, but I want our family to also include a pet that can do things with us (especially me) outside of the home. (I’ve tried walking a cat on a leash, and it doesn’t work.) Plus, The Tots are getting to the point where they want to be with their friends more. That’s understandable. That’s normal. And that’s good, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting a little. 

            For the past 10 years, my children have been my sidekicks. When I go anywhere without them, I’m constantly looking over my shoulder to see where they are. As much as I want them to explore their independence and grow, I also want to keep them with me forever. I know that’s not how it works, so don’t chalk me up to one of those crazy helicopter parents who follows their children around the country during every phase of their lives. It’s just that their tweendom bloomed during COVID, and we all know that this stupid virus makes everything worse. 

            Their growing up coupled with my father-in-law’s rapidly declining health, the loss of my mom, and the nervousness The Tots and I have about remote learning has created the need for a tremendous bright spot. I know that you’re thinking to yourselves, “Hey chick, you’re the one always telling us to look for goodness in small and surprising places, so go find it.” You’re right, but sometimes you have to create your own goodness. 

            Case in point. When 9/11 happened, I was going through a horrible break up with a guy who was nothing but trouble. So while I watched the towers crumble on television, I was also nursing one of the worst broken hearts I’ve ever experienced. I remember curling up under the covers of my bed with my teary eyes glued to the endless coverage of the attack. Scared and hopeless, I decided then and there to adopt a cat, my first furry pet. (I’m the kid who had hermit crabs for pets.)

            Adopting Azalea, a tabby with eyes as green as grass, turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made. No, she wasn’t warm and fuzzy, but she was there for me when no one else was, and that means something. 

            I feel like our family is at a similar crossroads and that the timing might be right for a canine. That said, I’ve spent the past week scrolling rescue sites looking for “the one.” I usually search the web for purses or shoes when I’m stressed, but these days I’ve gone to the dogs. 

            Although I’ve dreamed of having a corgi, I’ve since learned that they might not be the best breed for cats. That discovery has opened the search to any small, young female dog that likes cats and kids. I hear beagles might be good for that. Who knows? Whichever dog can fit in with our feline flow is welcome because we have two fantastic cats, and I don’t want to rock their world too much. 

            Regardless, as I look at pictures and read bios of precious doggies, I fantasize about the adventures we’ll have. We’ll sit on the back stoop reading together, take walks in the park, go on boat rides, run errands and become the best of pals. (Insert sappy montage here with Queen’s You’re My Best Friend playing in the background.) Sure there’s the maintenance of it all, but that doesn’t seem so bad if we could find the right fit for our family, so the scrolling continues.

            I’ll be 48 in less than a week, and as weird as this year has been, I don’t see reverse aging (think Mork & Mindy) becoming a reality. If anything, this year has shown me how important it is to live in the moment, and if that means adopting a dog, so be it. It’s doggone time. 

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This was originally posted on July 31, 2020.

Every Friday I share the Winks of Goodness I experienced throughout the week because I’ve found that writing down and formally acknowledging these suckers gives them more power. I encourage you to share your own Weekly Winks on my site or on social media. Look around and write it down — share the goodness.   

Saturday — I spent the day starting the “big sweep” of our house. It feels so good to declutter. 

Sunday — Dad came over for our weekly lunch on the patio, and we had a great conversation. 

Monday — I caught up with my best friend from Governor’s School over the phone. We hadn’t talked in about three years. Much too long!

Tuesday — I finally killed the #$%^ fly that has been buzzing around our house for the last two days. I feel like I have a new house!

Wednesday — I woke up to Hamilton (one of our tabby cats) snoring. However, his snoring sounds a lot like purring, so I guess I should call it “poring.” Either way it’s super cute. Wink number two involved seeing the moon tonight while walking home from my in-laws. There was just something magical about it. 

Thursday — We finished watching Teen Beach 2 as a family, and I have to say that these bubble gum musicals are perfect picker uppers for COVID world. 

Friday — I heard this quote from economist Paul Romer this morning on NPR — “A crisis is a terrible thing to waste.” That statement gave me comfort. 

            Get outside, look for goodness and savor it, friends! Happy weekend!

This was originally posted on July 29, 2020.

Wednesdays are our big day out. That’s the day we deliver groceries to church to be delivered to children who don’t have enough to eat in our community. Every week when I place our paper bag of staples in the cart, I feel two things. One, that I’m helping folks in a super small way, and two, that I accomplished something. 

            Before COVID-19, I used to accomplish a lot. I’d craft elaborate to-do lists daily and crush every item with a check mark, often adding more tasks just to up the ante. In COVID world, I’m still doing stuff, lots of stuff, but it’s not the same. 

            After we drop our groceries off on Wednesdays, I usually take The Tots through the Chick-fil-A drive-through, the epitome of efficiency. (I just downloaded the app, and I’m even more impressed.) Sometimes we come home after that. Sometimes we run errands. Today we had a list of things to do, and as we started checking things off, I could feel the adrenaline rush of being organized, together, even normal, but I know that things are not normal, and that’s when I started feeling down. 

            By now you’d think I would have grown accustomed to COVID world, but the longer we linger here, the harder it gets. As we approach new seasons, we’re greeted with new cancellations, new procedures, new rules and new reminders that there is no end to this in sight. Is our Elf on the Shelf going to arrive wearing a mask? Probably. 

            I’m sad about so many things, but I keep doing positive calculus in my head to stay strong for my kids. Here’s how my monkey mind math works. Yes, I’m sad that my children have to return to remote learning when school starts, but I’m grateful that I have a flexible job that allows me to be with them. Yes, I’m crushed that I had to cancel my Y membership, but I’m lucky that I can run and have workouts that I can do at home. Yes, I’d love to sit in Lingle Chapel with my friends for the 9:45 service, but I’m beyond thankful our church puts together an awesome online service that I can watch on my porch at 9:45 with the birds chirping in the background. 

            It’s exhausting arithmetic, but most of the time it keeps me out of the pity pit. Today, I just couldn’t swing it. People were being rude in traffic, downtown Davidson wasn’t bustling like it would have been in a COVIDless world and two millennials weren’t’ wearing masks at Target (come on, people). I had no choice but to pull out my emergency tool kit. 

            When I reach DEFCON 1 with the blues, I reach for the easiest avenues to goodness – quotes. If I’m out shopping, it’s easy because quotes are everywhere. Here are some of the highlights from today: “Sunny Days Ahead,” “Just Roll With It,” “There is always something to be grateful for,” “You are Capable of Amazing Things” and “Have Fun, Innovate, Encourage, Be Honest, Inspire, Experience, Be Kind.” Those definitely put me on the up escalator, and when Graydon started singing Benee’s Supalonely in the car, I was well on my way to recovery. 

            No, I’m not tap dancing on rainbows now, but at least I no longer want to blow my horn at every car that passes me or punch out those mask-less millennials. I’ll take that as progress. 

            The truth is that there are more hard days ahead of us. COVID or not, there always will be hard days. Knowing that, I take comfort in my bag of tricks. They keep me going when I just want to stop and scream or cry (or both)! Goodness, in whichever form, won’t let you down. All you have to do is look for it. 

I have long suspected that my children are smarter than I am, and last Thursday, my daughter proved it. We were winding down our vacation on Bald Head Island, one of my favorite places on the planet, and I was sulking about having to go home. (Picture a toddler kicking her sand bucket across the beach in disgust and that was me.) In the middle of my whining rant, Margot said. “Mom, if we were here all of the time, we wouldn’t appreciate it.” 

            Good God, she was right, really right, but I still didn’t want to leave.  

            Last week was the best vacation our family ever had — really. Sure, Bald Head, with its sylvan environment punctuated with Kermit green marshes, boutique deer population and precious grocery store, is an awesome place, but it was more than that. 

            We had this same trip planned for last year, but we had to cancel it at the last minute when mom was given four to six weeks to live. Then six months after mom passed away, we entered COVID-19 world, where anything you’re accustomed to is stripped away or rearranged to the point where you no longer recognize it. Needless to say, it’s been a rough year. 

            Like so many families who have suffered or are suffering more, my family needed space to heal and simply connect with each other, as well as nature. That’s what happened as soon as we stepped off of the ferry, and that’s why I didn’t want to leave. But as Margot pointed out, the power of getting away is in the return.

            So on Saturday, we took the ferry back to the mainland, loaded our minivan and returned to our Covid Cabana (I made that up!) with a sense of renewal and perspective. On the way home, I made the executive decision to make our house as peaceful as the house we rented on vacation, and the first step of that process is clearing out clutter. Though we’re not hoarders, we have a lot of stuff, stuff we don’t need and stuff that fills space we do need. 

            With a month until remote learning begins, I vowed to clean out as much of our home as I can to give our family a fresh start. For the past two nights, I’ve been going through jewelry boxes, looking at class rings, beaded bracelets and my mom’s butterfly brooches. While helping me, Margot spotted a purple plastic half-heart on a cord. “You have the other half,” she said with surprise, adding that she had the same necklace upstairs but didn’t know who had the missing piece. 

            I smiled, remembering how we won the “Best Friend” necklace at the beach playing skee ball (my favorite sport). She was a toddler and when she looked at the necklace with her big blue eyes and gave me the other half, I felt like I had won the lottery. Of all the people in the world, she chose me to be her best friend. I’ve kept the necklace in my jewelry box ever since. It’s worth more than diamonds, and seeing her face light up when she saw it the other night was priceless. 

            Moments like these are the ones that we have to cling to in our uncertain world no matter if we’re on vacation or not. This is the stuff you can’t plan or pay for, these are the Winks of Goodness that keep us going when we want to kick the sand bucket and run away. Thank goodness our children know better.

Lots of Winks to report this week as we scoot farther into summer. Not gonna lie, I was super nervous about the Fourth of July, as it is my mother’s birthday, but it turned out to be a pretty wonderful day thanks to family and friends. I know she was looking down on us wearing her gorgeous smile and a fabulous red, white and blue ensemble. Happy Birthday, mom!

            On another note, we’re heading to the beach tomorrow for a week, so I’m doing a social media fast while we’re gone. I need to reboot my soul, and the best way to do that is to remove myself from hostile postings and the compare and despair game that is Facebook. (I hate that I have to use FB to promote my blog, but that’s how it works.)

            Anyway, have a wonderful week, keep looking for goodness and get outside! Here are this week’s Weekly Winks. 

            Every Friday I share the Winks of Goodness I experienced throughout the week because I’ve found that writing down and formally acknowledging these suckers gives them more power. I encourage you to share your own Weekly Winks on my site or on social media. Look around and write it down — share the goodness.   

Saturday — Independence Day! I woke up scared of how I would handle the day, but it turned out to be a fun day of family, friends and food. Thanks to everyone who made it so special!

Sunday — My neighbors left me a key to their house while they went out of town so that I could play with their perfectly sweet doggies. I got up early just so I could walk them by myself (sans kids). Love my furry friends!

Monday — My Soul Sister popped by her in convertible for an impromptu joy ride. We had a blast cruising around in the sunshine!

Tuesday — Graydon made me a delicious breakfast, complete with a set table, and Margot and I had a magical day in my hometown (see the Hand in Hand Through Time entry from July 8). Love my Tater Tots to pieces!

Wednesday — I loved hearing Margot sing Kool & The Gang’s Celebration as we drove around town in the minivan. My mom loved that song!

Thursday — I had dinner outside with two of my best friends, and on the way home I heard Duran Duran’s Ordinary World. The chorus of this song struck me like never before:

“But I won’t cry for yesterday.
There’s an ordinary world
somehow I have to find.
And as I try to make my way
to the ordinary world,
I will learn to survive.”

Friday — I had an inspiring essay session with a rising senior. I’m really excited about my new writing venture – Show Don’t Tell Essays. 

            Get outside this week and replenish your soul! That’s what I’m gonna do!

Yesterday, Margot and I drove to Concord to have lunch with her teacher. As a native, it’s always a treat to putter around Downtown Concord with its cute shops, restaurants and personal history. Looking in the current storefronts, I remember what used to fill those windows when I was a little girl. There was Robinson’s, mom’s favorite boutique. It’s now a fancy coffee shop. Kester Three, where I used to buy the nicest stickers as a little girl, is now a mercantile, and the five and dime where my mother worked when she first met my dad is now the Cabarrus Creamery, home of the best ice cream in the world when it’s open — and that’s where the sting begins. 

            The creamery hasn’t been open since the pandemic began. I don’t know anything about when it might open. I just know that all of the young and old folks who usually sit on its benches during the summertime devouring lemon ice cream and peanut butter shakes aren’t there. And those empty benches are just another reminder of what’s been lost to the coronavirus. 

            Regardless, Margot and I were determined to have fun, and that we did. As she showed her Bare Book (big writing project) to Mrs. Greene, I was the proudest mom in the world — and the saddest. These two have such a special connection, and though they were able to maintain it as we dove into crisis learning this past spring, it’s still not the same as being together every day. 

            Like millions of parents across the world, we’re trying to figure out what school is going to look like this fall. Yesterday, we got an e-mail explaining our present options, but if there are any guarantees with COVID-19, it’s that things will change. (It’s no coincidence that “pivot” is the hot word right now.) Our children’s school is doing a fantastic job of making some incredibly hard decisions, but my heart still breaks for all of the changes that must be made to keep us safe. 

            The other day I flipped through my planner to the week leading up to the shut down. A week before school closed, John took the day off so we could have a date breakfast before going to The Tots’ play at school. The following Sunday, Margot and I ventured to Charlotte for a Girl Scout celebration of the women’s suffrage movement. On Tuesday, my soul sister and I went to parent advisory at our high school, and the next night, The Tots and I went to Wednesday night dinner at church, where we talked with friends about the chili they were going to make for the upcoming chili cook-off that never happened.  

            After 16 weeks of COVID-19, I can’t imagine doing any of these things. Sometimes it hurts when I do. None of us knew the severity of what was coming, and we surely didn’t know that this pandemic would be laced with a social justice revolution.

During the past couple of months, I’ve seen and heard things that fill me with such sadness and anguish. People I had tremendous respect for have shocked me with their bias and beliefs, and common sense seems to be optional for folks these days. It’s so easy to let it get to me, but what does that accomplish? Not a damn thing. 

            So as I struggle to digest our country right now, I look to my children because at this point, they really are the smartest people in the room. Margot took extra care to wear a special outfit for Mrs. Greene yesterday, which prompted me to wash my hair and wear a dress (gasp!) to lunch. 

            After lunch, Margot and I walked through downtown to a couple of shops. She held my hand as we crossed Union Street, and just like that I was with my mother running errands. The circle that I believe in so much struck my heart like lightning, and it felt so good to be happy and present. It was a much-needed reminder that though the downtown shops have changed, along with our world, some things haven’t. Things like a mother and daughter making an adventure out of a summer afternoon, hand in hand.