YOUR SISTER TOLD YOU TO HIDE IN THE ATTIC AND NOT TELL YOUR HUSBAND—THEN YOU FOUND THE PASSPORTS UNDER THE FLOORBOARDS

It is your son growing up under his own name.

It is your sister finding her way back to the table.

It is sleeping in a house without an attic and knowing the lights can stay on if you want them to.

It is understanding that love without truth isn’t love at all.

It is a cage with flowers painted on it.

And it is remembering that the night your sister called continue reading …