When I wake up to a clean sink, I feel its fullness.

A quick phone call on the way home from work, “Did you eat?”

My daughter’s knock and muffled offering, “I made soup, There’s plenty.”

The last one out the studio door, “Thank you. I can’t tell you how I needed that.”

A Starbucks gift card at semester’s end with a note, “I learned so much from you.”

Taking a time out during the busy day to close my eyes, breathe and chant.

Asking for advice from my mentor, “Who is my client avatar? What can I offer?”

She says, “You are deeply humble, non-judgmental and compassionate.”

He always emails a good morning with a wish for a wonderful day–every day–

and he says he digs my hair, a hodgepodge of incoming gray and outgoing brown.

She winks from afar, a giggle on Instagram, a blue, violet, yellow, or blue heart.

My 9 year old great niece’s FaceTime every week, just because.

My sister’s generous gifts, her texts and memes of beautiful, powerful women,

saying, “These remind me of you and your daughters.”

My other sister’s cakes, soft voice, and tears, she never forgets to say the words.

Like the senile song on repeat he is, my father intones, “I’m so lucky to be with this family.”

My brother’s responsibility, a loan when I was down and out; it’s his way.

The wag of the tail, the light stroke on the cheek, the giant grin, fist bump, and kiss.

This is where I live–in the house of the heart–cracked, shattered, scored, and <3’d.