Both sides of the street

On December 24th I received a ticket for parking on the wrong side of the street. I thought to myself, New York really should show some holiday spirit! That thought was immediately replaced by a sincere feeling of gratitude, a profound connection to all the mothers who were sitting next to their daughters in hospitals that day, wishing, just wishing all they had to face was a parking ticket.

Yesterday we moved everything out of David's apartment, and regardless of the fact that it's the only home Annie has ever known, I should be grateful she's only had to move two buildings down. She'll remain on the same street, see the same faces on her way to the same school, play with the same friends. But last night when she ran into her daddy's unfamiliar room, broke down and cried "I want to go home!," gratitude was not what I felt.

I know how fortunate I am as a mother, as a woman and as a human being, and I know how fortunate my child is too. I just can't help but wishing that a ticket given for parking on the wrong side of the street would be the worst thing she'd ever have to face.