I hung a new photo on my refrigerator that winter. Not a Christmas card, just a snapshot. Eleanor on my left. My mother on my right. Megan cross-legged on the floor in front of us. Four women. No matching sweaters. No golden retriever. No performance.
I don’t need his call to know who I am. I figured that out on my own.
If you’ve ever been the one in your family who was overlooked, replaced, or called a mistake, I see you. You’re not a mistake. You never were.