my heart.
And the first step was letting Rachel go.
I turned and saw a man I’d never met walking toward me with a little girl I feel like I’ve known forever. Carl Sanchez and I had spoken on the phone several times over the last two weeks. He’d prepared Missy for this meeting.
He’d known all along that Missy wasn’t his daughter, but he loved her.
He loved her so much, he was willing to share her. With her biological father.
I turned my back on the headstone and walked across the green lawn. Missy looked like me. More, she looked like Rachel. With dark curls and big blue eyes.
Carl and I shook hands. “Thank you,” I said and he smiled at me.
I squatted in front of Missy. “Hello, Missy. Do you remember me? We talked on the computer.”
She nodded and smiled, her big eyes so round and inquisitive. “I remember you, Daddy.”
Then she hugged me and all the pain I’d ever felt washed away in a river of pure, unconditional love.
