Two days later, I stood in front of a quiet house with a porch swing and childhood marks on the doorframe. When Alice appeared at the door, now a teenager, the years between us collapsed in an instant. She whispered “Mom,” and I ran to her.
We cannot recover the time we lost, and healing will take patience. But for the first time in years, I am no longer living only with absence. My daughter is home, and we are learning each other again, one day at a time.
