The first anniversary of our meeting at the diner came during a soft spring rain.

Paige invited Violet, Denise, and us to the archive opening.

The program was small: a few tables, a display case, and handwritten labels describing the importance of accurate records and consent.

Paige gave a short speech.

She explained that when she was born she had been called Lucy; when she became our daughter, she was called Paige; and neither name canceled the other.

“I used to think family history was a straight line,” she told the gathering.