Five years ago, I stood in the driveway and waved goodbye as my husband drove away with our three boys. Ben had packed the SUV for one of their father-and-sons weekends at the cabin, the one he had inherited from his grandfather. Our five daughters were still in the house, shouting over breakfast and arguing about socks, and I remember thinking how loud, messy, and full my life was. I did not know I was watching part of it disappear. That was the last time I saw them. Later that day, rain hammered the windows while I stood at the...
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