I walked until it grew dark. One memory per era emerged:

-Peeling, rinsing and handing out carrots for the boys and their neighbor buds after school.

-Collecting data and writing up the research about why our impossible unit had been so effective.

-Making hot cinnamon milk with the most violent patient to celebrate a good day.

-A little boy building a precarious tower to find a framework for a terrible enigma in his life.

-A silent teenager sees light in a dream of bees.

-Just sitting with a young former teacher whose head injury took away her ability to speak.

-Preparing Celestial Seasonings Mandarin Orange Spice tea for my mom in her illness.

Work plus love. That seems to be the sum of it. (Well, maybe cleaning 13 rooms in one day as a hotel maid doesn't quite fit the formula--but most of my jobs do!)

Just itchy to figure out how to apply the formula this next chapter.