It wasn’t perfect—we fought, revisited old wounds—but this time, we chose healing. We went to counseling, exchanged letters, found compassion. And then I found out I was pregnant. Unexpected, yes. But welcomed. We moved back into one room, painted the nursery green, and named our daughter Leontine—after his father, Leon.
That green light now shines with love, remembrance, and hope. It sparked conversations, healed neighbors, and helped rebuild a family.
It reminded us:
Everyone is fighting invisible battles.
Love can evolve.
Healing is hard—but possible.
And sometimes, a light really can guide you home.