I decided that morning didn’t get to take anything else from me.
Marissa and I aren’t sisters. We aren’t exactly friends yet. But every Sunday at 4 p.m., I drive to Linden Street, and Lily and I play Scrabble at the kitchen table while Marissa makes dinner.
Lily plays “QI” every single time.
“It’s not a real word,” I tell her.
“Uncle Julian said it was real in Chinese philosophy and in his heart,” she says, writing down the score on the back of a receipt.
I have no idea when he told her that. I guess he found a way to be there for her, too, in the end.
Last month, my certified nursing program asked me to fill out an emergency contact form for my clinical rotation.
I sat there with the pen in my hand for a long time.
Then, for the first time in my life, I filled in the line.
