Lorene was where I spent it.

And I’ve come to think that’s part of what friendship is for, at any age — that the people we let in aren’t only ends in themselves but also, quietly, our training grounds for love, the safer places we practice being open until we’re brave enough to be open where it counts.

My daughter has her father back because a man fixed a truck with me.

Nobody could have drawn you that map in advance.

But that’s the one I walked.

Chapter 11 — The Diagnosis