The girls eventually started calling her Grandma Ruth.
I never corrected them.
I needed her too.
My boss, Mr. Harlan, rearranged my schedule.
Then rearranged it again.
When daycare bills became impossible, I began working early mornings and late evenings while Mrs. Coleman watched the girls during the middle of the day.
I stopped buying anything that wasn’t necessary.
The old truck survived because it had no choice.
When the triplets turned one, I sat at my kitchen table after they fell asleep and opened a cheap spiral notebook.
I wrote:
To my girls,
Today you turned one.
I burned the pancakes, Sophie cried because Brooke touched her balloon, and Lily tried to eat wrapping paper.
I have no idea if I’m doing any of this correctly.
But I promise I’m still here tomorrow.
I closed the notebook and shoved it into the junk drawer.
The next year, I wrote another entry.
