When the Lights Go Out, the Vows Get Tested in the Dark

it was something.

And Rachel—my daughter, the one I’d resented for being far away—picked up the list and said, “Okay. Tell me what to do.”

I watched her, and I realized something ugly and honest:

Part of my refusal to place Martha wasn’t just love.

It was pride.

It was me wanting to be the one who carried her to the end.

But love isn’t a solo.

Love is a choir continue reading …