On a Saturday night, I found myself in the living room in front of a fire with friends. Shawn was playing Hotel California on his guitar, trying to lull our toddler to sleep. Ana sang along while holding a skein of yarn apart on her hands. Cheryl stood before her carefully winding the yarn into a ball. I sat on the floor watching my crochet hook catch the firelight as I moved along on a project. The coffee table had four glasses of wine on it.
Just like old times, I thought.