I hope your girls are grown and healthy and have discovered how lucky they were to have you.

When you met me, I was angry with the world in a way that had become comfortable.

My daughter had died, and I had made the terrible mistake of believing that grief excused me from noticing anyone else.

I had sold my home, fought with my remaining family, and walked away from a hotel I could easily have paid for because I could not stand one more room in which nobody needed me.

Then you stopped.