Lucy had been counting the minutes until she could take her newborn twins home. It had been a long, emotional journey for her and her husband Ross—they had been trying to have children for years. So when they found out Lucy was pregnant with twins, a boy and a girl, they were beyond excited. “We’re finally going to be parents,” Ross had said, smiling through tears the day they saw the ultrasound. “And one of each! It’s perfect.” Lucy gave birth to a healthy baby boy and a baby girl,

I was sitting in the second row of the graduation auditorium, holding the program tightly in my hands, blinking away tears. My son, Michael, was about to graduate from college magna cum laude. Four years of sleepless nights, late-night study sessions, and unpaid internships had finally paid off. He made it. My boy had made it. I looked around. I was sitting alone—surrounded by proud families, but none of them were mine. My husband had passed three years ago, and on days like this, I missed him with a sharp,

I thought my mom’s wedding at seventy would be a simple, sweet ceremony. You know—some music, a few tears, maybe a little dancing. I never expected her to grab the microphone and shock everyone with a wild rule for whoever caught her bouquet. Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood for games, so I stepped back, trying to avoid the whole thing. But somehow… it still landed—right in my hands. That all started a few weeks before, when I stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, watching my seventy-nine-year-old mother zoom around