My daughter Lily, seven, had her mother\u2019s bright grey-blue eyes and the same curious tilt of her head. One morning she held a wedding invitation and asked, \u201cAre we really going to Uncle Ben\u2019s wedding?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ben had been my best friend \u2014 a support when my wife died \u2014 so I agreed. At the vineyard ceremony, Lily wondered if the bride would wear a veil like Mommy did. When the veil lifted, I froze: the woman at the altar looked exactly like my late wife.<\/p>\n
Afterward, Ben pulled me aside. He confessed the bride was my wife\u2019s identical twin \u2014 adopted long ago. I felt betrayed and stunned.<\/p>\n
Later, the twin \u2014 Julia \u2014 visited us. She was kind and gentle with Lily, carrying traits like her sister: a shared laugh, a familiar light in her eyes. Over time, my grief softened. Julia didn\u2019t replace my wife \u2014 but in her quiet presence I found a strange, gentle echo of what was lost. And Lily, gazing at the stars, still believed Mommy was watching. Maybe she was right.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"