I was 10 when my mom went to the hospital. That night, I found my dad crying quietly at the kitchen table—something I’d never seen. Mom didn’t make it, and suddenly I was taking care of my little sister, Lanie, while Dad retreated into grief.
Aunt Maggie moved in to help. At first, I resented her routines, but she slowly filled the gaps with love—fairy lights, poetry, and little acts of care. When Dad finally sought help for his depression, we began to rebuild.
Years later, Maggie was diagnosed with cancer. She faced it with courage, leaving letters and secretly funding our education and little joys like a telescope and fairy lights. Her love quietly gave us a chance to thrive.
I became a teacher, Lanie a nurse, and Dad found peace. Life taught me that even broken people can grow, and that love often shows up in unexpected ways.
