---

---

---

---

“I’m not a daughter, Mom….I’m not anything….”

“No, honey, you’re right about that. You’re not any thing but someone….my child, your father’s child, and I guess your father’s daughter. And we’ll figure out just what that means, okay?”

“I don’t know….I’m so….sorry, Mommy….I’m so sorry….” He kept repeating it, over and over. She continued to pat him on the back. He had nothing to be sorry for, but she spoke softly to that part of his heart that felt shameful and frightened and alone, answering each apology as it came with ‘I know.”

---

---