A wagon ride at Lynd Fruit Farm with my kids and grandkids took me back to my grandparents' farm. For a moment I was both the grandchild and the Gramma, and I found myself thinking about what it means to move forward without treating the past as a mistake or a bad thing.

You’ve probably seen the post by now. The one going around about the kind of grandmother a woman intends to be someday. Dinner on the table after a hard day. Baths and bedtime covered. Bring those babies over and go get some rest. No, you don’t have to explain yourself. My feed has been filled with it this past couple of weeks. Women I love shared it, and I understood exactly why. It names something many of us carry-- I don’t want my children to ever feel alone. I read it twi