We would also need to make sure she was safe, that her schooling continued, and that the adults responsible for her worked out the arrangements she needed.
Love alone wouldn’t solve every problem.
But love, honesty, patience, and a willingness to show up could give us a place to begin.
Two days later, I celebrated my forty-fourth birthday.
There was no extravagant party. We had a simple dinner at home, a small cake, and three plates on the table.
Mark gave me flowers.
Julia made a handmade card with a crooked drawing of a diamond ring on the front.
Inside, she had written, Thank you for letting me be part of your family.
I read the words twice before looking up at her.
Then I hugged her.
That evening, as I sat between Mark and Julia, I thought about the woman I had been only a few days earlier: the woman who believed her life had passed her by, who feared she would never become a wife, and who had convinced herself that the family she wanted was no longer possible.
