My husband, Cedar, and I had accepted my aunt's invitation to visit as a break from caregiving (our daughter's disabilities require around-the-clock support). We were tired -- exhausted -- and Janice generously offered to put us up in a hotel while our kids were well cared for at home.
A few mornings after we arrived, Cedar and I sat with Aunt Janice while the California sun streamed over our faces. The conversation veered to our oldest child's fondness for a well-worn bear. Janice, who is 80 years old, exclaimed, "A love for stuffed animals?! That's from me!" As if such a thing is genetically coded. But then again, who am I to say that it's not in our DNA, or that it is not a miracle, that both of them have stuffies with similar places in their hearts? Why can't it be, as Janice often says, "signs and wonders, ordained by God?"