I awoke with a conversation we shared replaying in my head. It was from this past Fall, as we rode together in her car, as my self confidence was splattered upon the ground in the shadow of my husband's recent departure.

"You know, Laur," she began. (It strikes me that I'll probably never be called "Laur" again...she is the only one who did so...but that's neither here nor there.) "If I were younger, or in a different stage of my life, I'd be jealous of you. And this is me speaking not as your mother, but as a woman. You're so attractive, intelligent, and talented...Hell. You have hair."