I woke early with an immediate awareness of a busy, intense, challenging and exciting day ahead producing day two of the IWWG Boston Conference. I rose quickly, thinking of my husband in the hospital. I called and woke him, heard his voice and he assured me he’d a great night and I should go confidently off to the conference. But first, the dogs, the woods, my walk, my time to be present outdoors, to breathe in the beauty and noise of the birds and see what is new this day. Sun on the river, a bright blue sky. The leaves filling out. I crossed the meadow with Charlie and Suzi and suddenly, looked down and gasped with pleasure – a jack-in-the-pulpit by the side of the trail in sun - my first of the season. May has so many delights and surprises. Now that I look back on this day I am terribly tired and also exhilarated by what we accomplished: how the writers came and risked and wrote and read their work, were vulnerable and funny and poignant and honest and brave and skillful and generous. And the happiest part, so unexpected, in a free moment, when my husband face timed me looking fresh and happy and like his true self, cheerful and hopeful and energetic and eager to come home. Yes, they will release him tomorrow. Eight days ago this crisis began, and now we are somehow on the other side of it, better for it, in so many ways. He’s coming home. And the conference celebrated unsung heroines, changed lives and honored women’s words, craft, feelings and experience. We went deep. Lives were changed for the better. Time to sleep.