When she learned to count to one hundred, I celebrated with her, then went into the laundry room and cried because there was no one else there to witness how proud she was.

I worked as a graphic designer for a regional publishing company.

Most days I could arrange my hours around preschool pickup, but deadlines did not care about school holidays.

My father, who lived twenty minutes away, helped when he could.

My friend Elena sometimes brought groceries and stayed to read Mabel a story while I finished a project.

I wasn’t entirely alone, even if I was the person who had to make the final choices.