I felt a strange bond — until the DNA test said we weren’t related at all. Not to me. Not to Dad. David was devastated. So was I. But as I looked at him — lost, like I once was — I realized something:
family isn’t always blood. It’s the people who choose to stay. So we chose each other. And this Christmas, as David helped my daughter place the star on our tree, I knew: love had made us a real family.