And now a woman with a set of state forms was saying, matter-of-factly, that she was going home with her family, and the word did not describe a hope or a possibility.

It described a fact, a legal and permanent fact that Arthur’s competence and my heart had together made real in the space of a single morning.

I have kept very few sentences from that day word for word, but I have kept that one.

She’s going home with her family today.

It is, I think, the most beautiful sentence anyone has ever said in my presence, and it was said by a tired social worker over a stack of forms, which is exactly where the most beautiful sentences tend to get said.

Chapter 20 — Single Dad, Huh