Only it’s not the same. I play it once, then over again. I sing along.
Then I realize that it’s not the same for me, because I’m not looking forward to something better anymore. The last year of my life was pretty damn amazing; I became a mother again- and it didn’t scare me this time, I was able to really soak it up and enjoy the amazingness of all of it, I grew a fabulous garden, Amelia learned to talk so I've been let in on all her ideas, and humor, and sweetness, Mike and I are (quite possibly) better than we've ever been together, I made new friends, I wrote some poetry, and I got creative in new ways.
I am looking forward, but not as a way to escape where I am now…I want to let it roll over me with that same wide eyed joy, mouth open, tasting, breathing in each new thing.