Time.

Carrie Cariello is clear; this is from several months ago —-

Around 5:00 tonight, we all looked at each other and realized we had nowhere we had to go.

No sports. No meetings. No study clubs or work dinners.

Just us, at home.

Normally we would have raced to fill the hours with stuff.

There was laundry to fold.

A meatloaf to make.

At the very least, holiday lights that should come down over the garage.

We did none of it.

We ordered pizza. As the clouds released a grey drizzle, we changed into pajamas and climbed under blankets. With the dog beside us, we watched a movie.

Let the lights twinkle a little longer.

Meatloaf can wait.

It’s taken me years upon years of motherhood to realize that the most precious of life’s gifts cannot be bought or owned.

Time.