I traveled to the harbor with our three-month-old twin daughters, hoping to surprise my husband after his long assignment at sea.

“I’m watching you, Mom,” I said.

“Are you staying?”

She looked at her granddaughters, and at me, and at the harbor behind us.

“It isn’t how men are,” she said, smiling through her tears.

“Or how women are.”

“It’s how people are who show up.”
May you like

“I’m home.”

THE END