I built the gate myself, and I have never been prouder of a day’s work.

Mariana helped her choose light blue curtains for her new sewing room, and when my mother said, laughing, “What does a woman my age need pretty curtains for?” Mariana, standing on a chair to hang them, said, “What age does a woman have to be to deserve pretty things?” — and my mother laughed a real laugh, warm and surprised, the laugh of a woman rediscovering that joy was allowed to be hers.

Her sewing business grew, from twenty tote bags a week into contract orders for uniforms and alterations.

She opened her own bank account.

She kept her own ledger.

She built a small emergency fund that no one on earth could touch without her permission.