Two things can be true at once

On Motherhood: Only we can say what love is

It was my first time away from you. Three days. Two nights. Sprawling county lines. But we were still connected by the same mountain range. The same blue mountains we can see from our porch at home. The same blue mountains that, for once, weren’t blue. They were the red of October—rust, wine, crimson, terra cotta, rose, and pomegranate. The trees looked…