Slightly South of Simple (Peachtree Bluff, #1)

by Kristy Woodson Harvey

I knew already from being a mother that sometimes the days would be long. Some days would be hard, would wring me out, would lend me that tiredness I felt from the roots of my hair to the soles of my feet. But the years? They would be inexplicably too short.

But the majesty and power of the ocean, roaring to the beach and then retreating, was a surprise every time. It never got old. And it never ceased to remind me that the world was large and, in the scheme of things, my problems were nothing.

realized that there were so many if onlys that sometimes it left out any space for the what could bes.