Twelve times I've cried this week:

(more truthfully in the past two days)

After a particularly rough meeting with a professor. After a particularly cheering meeting with a different professor. While adding another cousin to the spreadsheet of relatives with the BRCA gene mutation. When Matthew Cuthbert died. When Anne found renewed pleasure in life. When a friend texted to apologize for a lapse of compassion years ago. When that same friend suggested she take my younger-older kids to hang out with her younger-older kids while the older-older kids are hanging out at my house. After my oldest-older kid submitted her college application. When a cousin texted me out of the blue. When I listened to a new arrangement next-to-oldest-older kid is making of a Christmas song. When a girl in my class put her hand on my shoulder after my presentation and said that I did wonderfully and she appreciates having me in class. While reading about the needless destruction of the Jaredite nation. After seeing images of people sitting in the dirt, held at gunpoint, wearing nothing but underwear.