We lost power last night, coming home to a darkening house, cold and quiet, fumbled for belongings to pack in bags for the drive to a friend’s house. It reminded me very much of the times we were homeless when my daughter was small and it was just the two of us. The home in which we sought sanctuary was dark and quiet too, but only because I couldn’t figure out the lights. We sat together my blonde girl, who towers over me now, and I. I asked her what she remembered of those days. “I don’t remember much from back then, Mom. But I remember the cold and the darkness, and being alone together, and talking. And it was nice. I feel good now too”.