“I could never be angry with you for loving your father.”
She leaned against me.
“Do you think things will ever be normal again?”
I looked at my children and thought about everything we had lost.
“Maybe they won’t be the same,” I said. “But different doesn’t always mean bad.”
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My life was not magically repaired that night.
I was still grieving my baby. My marriage was still over. My relationship with my sister might never recover.
But something had changed.
My daughter had reminded me that children don’t always need adults to solve everything for them.
Sometimes they simply need permission to tell the truth.
And Amelia’s truth was simple.
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Our family had been broken.
But it had not disappeared.
We were still here.
We still loved one another.
And together, we would find a way forward.
