Not all at once.
That would have been too much.
One each Sunday.
Some were painful.
Some ridiculous.
I had tried to guess her favorite music.
I was usually wrong.
I told her about prison library books.
About women I met.
About dreams.
About regrets.
One letter said.
Lily, if you ever think I stopped loving you, please know that would be impossible.
Lily cried for an hour after reading that one.
Then she said.
“I wish I had gotten this when I was twelve.”
“So do I.”
We could not change that.
But we had it now.
Sometimes now is all life gives you.
Ridge House eventually expanded to six cabins.
We added a small office.
A community kitchen.
A workshop.
Luis retired.
Then volunteered twice a week anyway.
Samuel built raised garden beds.
Mark handled bookkeeping after finally reconciling with me.
Lily ran most of the program.
I became the person who walked around correcting crooked shelves.
