I love my life! It's rich in everything that matters and provides more that I ever expected in love and comfort and security and communication and many other things I am now so used to having that I forget that I lived without them.

My husband is my best friend and the person I would always choose first to spend time with. Sam and Cj are gifts beyond belief, smart and loving, sweet and healthy, and there are times when I almost have to pinch myself to grasp the fact that I am, indeed, their mom.

I have wonderful, interesting, wise and funny friends all over the world, and thanks to the wonders of technology I'm able to experience and benefit from their presence on the planet on a regular basis.

I have work that satisfies and fulfills me, and presents daily challenges that keep me sharp and engaged.

The view from my veranda inspires me at least five times a day to notice how beautiful the world can be, and my house is the home of my dreams, designed and built by and for my family.

I have more than enough food, clothing, health, clean water, access to education for my kids and healthcare.

Yes, the path of my life has brought me to an amazing place.

But ...

Does anyone get to have everything?

I have so much, and I'm so grateful for what I have, but what I don't have tugs at my heart forcefully and frequently. There are times when the pain is so sharp and sudden that I find myself paralyzed, able to do nothing but worry the hole in my heart where others I love so deeply aren't.

Today's Love Thursday photo is one my oldest child sent this week of her with my granddaughter. They live in North Carolina, and that's a long, long way from Seychelles. I've not breathed the same air, felt the same breeze or shared space with them in five years. My granddaughter was only 10-months-old the last time I held her, and my daughter ... well, she's now a high-powered executive pushing 40 and living a life that's very far removed from the one we shared, the one where I knew her thoughts and could sense her moods.

She and her husband bought a new house a few months ago, so I can't even place my child in a physical context. I know few of her friends, and none of my granddaughter's playmates.

It's the same story with my eldest son.

The fact that I have four kids is something easy enough for me to say, but since I've never been under the same roof with all of them at the same time, it often feels like a claim I should hesitate to make.

There's much that's been added to my life, and much that's been taken away. What can I do but take what I can and miss what I miss? More is bound to come, and more is certain to go.