pictures.

I stared at the bow for a moment before putting it aside.

Lily didn’t need a bow to be beautiful.

She didn’t need a special outfit to deserve affection.

And she certainly didn’t need to earn anyone’s approval.

Still, I picked up the bow and gently placed it on her head.

I told myself I was doing it for the photographs, not for my mother.

That was the sort of excuse I had made for years.

My husband, Evan, appeared in the doorway carrying our diaper bag and several