I wanted to tell him so. Find the right words, string them together in the ideal way, knowing that here they would have the best chance of sounding perfect.

It's still a memory worth having, even if it's not exactly what you imagined.

The only thing I can't stand more than seeing something done wrong is seeing it done slowly.

I had stepped into his arms, showing him my raw, broken heart.

Your mother won a special reward," she told me, "because everyone had a head in her pictures. We all applauded.

She smiled, pulling the photo a little closer, and I wondered if I should ask her, too, the question for my project, get her definition. But as she ran a finger slowly across the faces, identifying each one, it occurred to me that maybe this was her answer. All those names, strung together like beads on a chain. Coming together, splitting apart, but still and always, a family. (page 289) ~Ruby

Looking back, it seemed like it should have been harder to lose someone, or have them lose you, especially when they were in the same state, only a few towns over.