me.
It wasn’t because he thought I was incapable.
It was just how he loved people.
Our daughter, Karen, was born in 1983.
She grew into a woman with David’s patience and my stubbornness, which made her both incredibly capable and occasionally exhausting.
She lived about forty minutes away in Cleveland with her husband and two children.
Every Sunday evening, she called us.
Never missed.
The life David and I built wasn’t dramatic.
It was steady.
Quiet.
A life made from thousands of ordinary choices that kept pointing us toward
