It’s not exciting, but it pays enough to keep the heat on and food in the fridge.

That’s all I’ve ever really needed since it became just me and Lily.

My daughter is 11 now and growing ridiculously fast. She’s smarter than me in most ways, with that kind of old-soul wisdom kids sometimes carry when life hands them more than their fair share too early. She was only two when her dad passed.

And since then, I’ve been everything: the one who sings lullabies, checks math homework, and remembers where the extra toilet paper is stored.

It’s not the life I imagined, but it’s ours. And most days, it’s more than enough.

Still, I consider us lucky. We have each other. We