After the second, Thomas surprised me with a stronger sewing machine.

“You’re building something,” he said.

“So are we.”

And we did. A savings account. A child. A small alterations studio. Eventually a two-story house in Oak Park, with maple floors that creaked beside the staircase and narrow windows that filled every room with morning light.

We were never wealthy the way people imagine — no vacation homes, no luxury watches. We had a paid-off mortgage, dependable cars, retirement savings, and enough set aside to send Daniel through college without loans.

We also had friendships that lasted a lifetime.