I started to protest, to tell them that I had never meant to shut them out, but I stopped because the truth was I had shut them out. I had because it was the only way to deal with them not choosing me. Now, though, they were here and choosing me in the biggest way possible.
Mom continued, “So if this is too much, you just say the word. We’ll go right back to Baltimore—”
“Please come.” My voice was quiet and wobbly, but it was the most heartfelt request I’d made from them in decades. “Please. Please come.”
I had no memory of ever seeing my mother cry. Be upset, yes. But never shed tears, so when I saw a single tear slide down her cheek, I couldn’t hold back and started to weep. Dad sat beside me, and the three of us cried together for a few moments.
Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hi
