An Ángel in Waiting
I met Ángel at a wedding that wasn’t meant to be — mine. I was the bride, waiting. While the planners searched for my groom, I joked nervously, trying to hold the moment together. “This party will happen. If he doesn’t come, I’ll marry you,” I said, pointing to the photographer. He lowered his camera, and I saw Ángel’s eyes for the first time. “I do,” he replied. Years later, life miraculously brought us back together. At 44, I’m walking hand in hand with someone entirely unexpected who feels like home. The angels brought Ángel. — Adriana Pichardo
Planting Perennials
Mom found peace in the garden through her cancer journey. Among the last things she planted before the cataracts from treatment blurred her eyesight and a wicked bout of sepsis stole her mobility were 40 daffodil bulbs. As they began to bloom months later, I religiously photographed them for her, letting my phone camera become her sight. “Think of me each spring when you see them,” she said before she passed from ovarian cancer. Mom, I still see you in every bloom. — Katie Paradise
A Kiss on the Wrist
We sat parked in her old FJ Cruiser outside my apartment complex in Charlotte, N.C. She wouldn’t kiss me good night because she had a cold sore, and in her caring, selfless nature, she didn’t want me to get one, too. So instead, she kissed my hand, my wrist, my forearm. Gentle, innocent flutters of adoration. As I walked to my front door, my heart swelled. “I am absolutely going to fall in love with this woman,” I texted a friend. And I very much did. — Stephanie Pett
Forever Stitched
Up late, sewing under a pool of light, I needed scissors. I tiptoed downstairs, groped along the hallway and wondered how I’d navigate the even darker closet. Sightless, I let my hand sweep the shelf until I relented, turned on the light and found the scissors in my mom’s sewing kit. I turned toward the stairway — and then stopped. Through the open bedroom door, I saw my parents sleeping, their bodies still, arms and legs intertwined, faces almost touching. As one. I cut the image out, sewed it to my heart. — Becky Mueller
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