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Tears are streairl’s cheek, s

"I don’t want to count her fingers or toes," Lake whispers "I don’t care if she has two toes or three fingers or fifty feet I love her so much, Will She’s perfect"

She is perfect So perfect "Just like her ainst Lake’s and we just stare We stare at the daughter who is so hter who is so ht I would have This girl This baby girl is irls are both my life

I reach down and pick up her hand Her tiny fingers reflexively wrap around er "Hey, Julia It’s me It’s your daddy"

my final piece

We’re born into the world

As just one small piece to the puzzle

That hout our years,

to find all of our pieces that fit

The pieces that connect e are

To ere

To e’ll one day be

Soht

We’ll carry thee shape

Hoping they’ll conform to our puzzle

But they won’t

We’ll eventually have to let theo

To find the puzzle that is their home

Sometimes pieces won’t fit at all

No matter how much ant them to

We’ll shove them

We’ll bend them

We’ll break them

But what isn’t meant to be,

won’t be

Those are the hardest pieces of all to accept

The pieces of our puzzle

That just don’t belong

But occasionally

Not very often at all,

If we’re lucky,

If we pay enough attention,

We’ll find a

perfect ht in

The pieces that hug the contours of our own pieces

The pieces that lock to us

The pieces that we lock to

The pieces that fit so well, we can’t tell where our piece begins

And that piece ends

Those pieces we call