Right after Phil was born, his dad applied for a transfer to Seattle where my sister Tresa lived. I took heart. But a year later, in front of San Jose guests, he contemptuously sneered and said, "Why would I do anything for YOU? We moved because I was sick of the smog!"

Foolishly, I'd credited him with having a sliver of kindness he'd had no capacity to give.

And I was pregnant again. My doctors, for several reasons, advised abortion. I ran away to my grandmother's house. She said, "I didn't want to be pregnant a third time either. So I prayed that God would give me a child to make me laugh. This is my prayer for you."

Blake was born.


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