Lucky

I feel really loved.

Last week, I raced the rain to the central post office to pick up a care package, sent from Mami weeks ago and lost in the Pchum Ben shuffle. Once home, I tore it open. Its contents made me laugh and cry, and I called Mami right away, waking her from her much-needed sleep. And then, mid-conversation, my phone ran out of minutes. Silence.

A sampling of this package's contents:

Truffle salt

Random catalogs from J. Crew, Anthropologie, etc. (until now, my starved eyes forgot how good it feels to pour over something as simple as a mail catalog)

Sea salt caramels from Cacao (when I still worked at the firm, some afternoons, I would walk across the street to this chocolate shop, grab a bag of these caramels or a cup of drinking chocolate, and then bury myself in my office, doors shut, head in a document. These days, I will share them with my colleagues. But just a few pieces.)

A rain bonnet, rain poncho, and rain hat (all to be worn together, of course)

Nail polish, eyeliner and mascara

Shampoo, foot cream and aloe sunburn gel

Seasoning packets: tacos, fajitas, hollandaise sauce

BBQ sauce (the best sauce, she claims)

Different forms of granola

Japanese tea (barley?)

A postcard from Portland

Among many, many other things, this move has taught me that I have the best friends. I am so lucky. I can only hope to support them and be there to celebrate their choices.