When I am old and gray and sitting by the fire, and my sweet guardian angel taps me on the shoulder and grants me the most precious gift ever, to choose one day in my life to re-live, I might choose yesterday. Yesterday, I watched Therese run her first three-mile race, swooping past the competition with wings on her shoes and with her ponytail flapping behind her like a kite of fleeting ambition. Yesterday, I spent an hour and a half sitting on a Gatorade-stained blanket under a broad, familiar Capistrano sky, watching Brian open yet another September of AYSO soccer (BU18! sweet Angel, how did that happen?), scoring the first goal of the season. Yesterday, I listened to the soundtrack of my life, the strumming of Ronan's ukulele, as I loaded the first of six loads of laundry. Yesterday, I took sunset-backlit pictures of my still-awkward teen posing for obligatory Homecoming Dance pics with his equally nervous (and goldenly lovely) date. Yesterday, I fell asleep on the couch, watching TV with my husband of 20+ years, after having scrounged the freezer for the last of the ice cream bars. So, yes, sweet Angel, I'll choose that one. It was perfect. And thank you.