“Walynn said they got in a few days ago.” Identical twin missionaries are a big hit in foreign countries, and so Knox and Nash are constantly being asked to join various mission organizations to help with their cause. I know Pa couldn’t be prouder. I’m just glad that he finally worked out how to not associate them with the death of our mother and to discover a bond so late in the game with them. “Okay, I’m for sure hanging up this time. I still haven’t figured out how to stop loving you.”

“Me either, babe. I quit trying a very long time ago.”

We conclude the conversation the same way we’ve been doing for as long as I can remember. Vance gets me like no one else ever could.

After taking another left, I park the SUV in the small yard beside the weathered chapel. The structure is a testament to the Foster resilience. We may not have made it to this point unscathed, but by golly we made it.

Staring at the clapboard structure through the windshield, a bevy of memories play out before me. All the times I’d witnessed Miss Wise spitting on the steps were outnumbered by the times I’d sat on those steps with my siblings, talking about nonsense while trying to make some sense out of life.

I exit the vehicle and recall standing in the yard and tossing birdseed in the air as Charlotte rushed out the door, clinging to her groom, whom she’d met after moving to Charleston to open an interior designing company. The celebratory day helped some of the harder memories fade a little more into the background of our history. Seems we Fosters have become diligent with doing just that.

I open the back hatch and take out the yellow ribbon stashed in the storage compartment. I walk over to the magnolia tree in the side yard and admire what appears to be hundreds of yellow ribbons tied amongst the branches. Raleigh joined the military right as soon as he turned eighteen, saying he wanted to find his bravery. He’d found it way before turning eighteen, but I’ve come to understand that some things people have to figure out on their own. I can only hope he has discovered that his bravery presented itself with compassion and tenderness as a young boy. And I pray each day for his safe return home from overseas.

After securing the ribbon amongst the collection and whispering a prayer for him, I kneel at the hem of the magnolia tree’s skirt, wishing I had brought a rake. And wishing even more that I could send it underneath to retrieve a gift wrapped in a beautiful ending for my story.