Back after a long day in New York City.  I hadn't planned to write tonight but I am compelled to comment on the manner and thought of the path Ulla has chosen.  Some of us find ourselves more confused, some less.  For some of us the separation is too much of a shock while for others, its a new beginning.  So much of our reaction has to do with the history we choose to bring to it.  And I say "choose" because some of us might have taken a bit of the baggage left over from our own histories and wallowed (and I say that carefully) in the pain of the loss.

I remember the day I dropped my first child at school.  I had no idea what kind of wrenching experience it would.  I'd thought that my sheer joy for her to be moving on with her life would satisfy me.  Not the case.  I, too, cried.  All the way home.

But amazingly, years go by, another separation, tears, more tears and then something inside shifts and we learn this is part of a process.  Like my garden, most of us reach for the light.