I love dry socks after a wet day.
I love blankets warmed by dogs.
I love moments of peaceful silence.
I love the gift that is our life, the promise of each new day, the wonder that is the simple act of breathing in and out.
I don't love the hard stuff. I can't even pretend. The hurt, the sorrow, the sadness. The loss, the loneliness, the tears.
I do love how the hard stuff makes me appreciate the little things all the more. Every hug I get from my Mom is dearer today than it was six months ago, when we didn't know then what we know today.
I love.
