somewhere between letter number one and letter number twenty-four, I’d fallen in love with her. Fallen for her words, her strength, her insight and kindness, her grace under impossible circumstances, her love for her children, and her determination to stand on her own. I could list a thousand reasons that woman owned whatever heart I had. But none of them mattered because, even though she was the woman I loved, to her, I was just a stranger. An unwelcome one at that.
