A client wanted a report rewritten on a holiday.

I made mistakes and corrected them.

Some evenings I ate leftovers standing at the counter because my daughter wanted to be carried.

But the challenges were mine to manage, not proof that I had been wrong to leave my marriage.

I repainted the upstairs bedroom and filled two walls with bookshelves.

On one shelf I placed my grandmother’s photograph.

On another I placed the notebook where I had recorded Willa’s first words, the dates of her earliest milestones, and the ordinary moments I was afraid I might forget.

Andrew helped assemble a wooden desk.