“My Husband Doesn’t Want You Here.” My Daughter Said It Behind a Wall of White Roses

fourth letter: C. Alexis as a newborn, so small she fit in the crook of my arm.

The fifth letter: E. But “yours” doesn’t mean to destroy. Some people don’t understand that ownership is sacred.

The sixth letter: B. Alexis at nine, standing in the field after Leonard’s funeral, crying so hard she could barely breathe. “The farm will always be here,” I’d continue reading …