"Her heart's fine," Caroline said, thinking of the early years of constant worry over Phoebe's health--all the trips to the doctors and dentists and cardiologists and ear, nose, and throat specialists. But she had grown up; she was well; she shot baskets in the driveway and loved to dance. "The books I read when she was still small predicted she'd be dead by now, but she's fine. She was lucky, I guess; she never had a problem with her heart. She loves to sing. She has a cat named Rain. She's learning how to weave. That's where she is right now. At home. Weaving." Caroline shook her head. "She goes to school. Public school, with all the other kids. I had to fight like hell for them to take her. And now she's nearly grown I don't know what will happen. I have a good job. I work part-time in an internal medicine clinic at the hospital. My husband--he travels a lot. Phoebe goes to a group home each day. She has a lot of friends there. She's learning how to do office work. What else can I say? You missed a lot of heartache, sure. But David, you missed a lot of joy."
{P.S. I'm a little behind in the 52 in 52 challenge. Had you noticed? I'm wondering, do picture books count? Comic books? Flip books?!}
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