Just my luck, she thought. Here I am in the middle of nowhere, and Easy Rider comes to my rescue.

There can be no fooling ourselves into thinking this is something other than what it is – the willful ejection of Molly from our nest. It’s too late for second thoughts, anyway. She has to be moved into her dorm in time for freshman orientation. It’s been marked on the kitchen calendar for weeks – the expiration date on her childhood.

I’m glad i found photography. It’s a way to connect with the world.

Natalie reminded herself to savor the deep, rich wine and the glorious colors of the gathering sunset. She had a good life. A good job. A good friend.

When she returned to Bella Vista, she discovered Isabel in her manic-baking mode. The kitchen was filled with the aromas of butter, vanilla and cinnamon. She’d created Danishes and rugelach and crispy twisty things that promised to glue themselves promptly to Tess’s hips.

And that refuge was the most reliable place of all – between the pages of a book.

Unlike men, books were easy. They filled you with all the emotions in the world – joy, dread, fear, hurt, gratification – and then they came to an end. People were different. Unpredictable. Impossible to manage.

There, a simple headstone marked the grave of Eva Saloman Johansen, “beloved wife and grandmother.” Tess was intrigued to see a phrase in Hebrew characters. Her paternal grandmother had apparently been Jewish. Beside that was a marker for Erik Karl Johansen, inscribed, ‘Measure his life not by its length but by the depths of joy he brought us. He jumped into life and never touched bottom. We will never laugh the same again.

The best thing for being sad,” replied Merlyn, beginning to puff and blow, “is to learn something. That is the only thing that never fails.

Aw, Gran.” Annie had been fighting tears from the moment she’d boarded the train from New York. “Please don’t leave me.” “I won’t,” she said with a gentle smile. “Keep me in your heart, and you’ll always know where to find me.