For a moment, I could not speak.
Then I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed it.
“Anna, I married you because I love you. Not because I expected you to arrive without a past.”
She stared at me.
“We are both carrying things from the lives we’ve lived. I have memories of Margaret. I have regrets about things I said and things I failed to say. I have fears about growing older and becoming dependent on my children. I have a body that aches when the weather changes.”
A faint smile appeared on her face.
“Your knees certainly complain enough.”
“They have a right to complain. They’ve been carrying me around for sixty-one years.”
She laughed through her tears.
It was a small laugh, but I was grateful for it.
I continued.
“I don’t expect you to be the nineteen-year-old girl I remember. I don’t expect you to forget what happened to you. And I certainly don’t expect you to pretend those scars don’t exist.”
