Partners.

Every once in a while, a moment will stop me in my tracks. I'll be rushing to get a load of laundry in before leaving for work, for example, and I'll open the basement door, arms full of dirty clothes, and I'll smell my beloved late grandmother's perfume. Faintly floral, faintly musty, with a slightly salty undertone - like flowers on the beach. I'll suck in my breath, gathering as much of the smell as I can, and then for the rest of the day I'll have images of her in my mind.

I had one of those moments this morning. I was coming awake slowly, relishing the last few minutes of sleep on a Saturday morning. I could hear my husband unloading the dishwasher, clinking plates together as he stacked them in the cabinet. My fluffy Chesapeake Bay Retriever mix was curled up next to me, pressed against the crook of my knees. When my husband came back to bed, he had my childhood photo album with him. I'd unearthed the album last week during our house reorganization and he was fascinated.

He started flipping the pages, pointing out how young my parents looked, how cute I was as a baby. Sleepily, I narrated the prints, identifying family members, birthday parties, childhood friends. When we turned to the pages with pictures of my first birthday, the shot of my mother and I and my new rocking horse struck me with an odd realization.

"She's younger in this picture than I am now," I said. And it's true. My mom was 27 years old when I turned one. I'm 28 now, careening towards 29. I can't fathom being a parent at my age - I'm not ready and I'm not sure I ever will be.

In the picture, my mother was fully absorbed in playing with me. My dad was the photographer, and I can imagine them, sitting on the hardwood floor in my childhood home, surrounded by colorful ripped wrapping paper and new toys. He had no doubt worked long hours that day (as he had every day) at their fledgling business, and she had dinner waiting when he got home.

In my current self reflective state of mind, the teamwork of my parents has an interesting symmetry with my husband and I. Having both taken the past week off work, we spent the time moving furniture, remodeling, and reorganizing our home. It's easy to forget, during the business of day to day living, how satisfying it is to work together to better our environment.

It's nice to be reminded that though I'm working hard to "make over" my life, I'm not the only one on my team. And I think my 27 year old mother - the one from the picture - would be proud.