What If I Got It Wrong? My daughter — who shows up in almost everything I write, whether she knows it or not — has been one of my greatest teachers. Sometimes through joy. Sometimes through pain. I still call her “kiddo,” even though she’s been grown and living her own life for years now. And I miss her — not just the sound of her in the house, but the ease of her being nearby. She’s grown into herself, and I’m incredibly proud of her. There are days when I want to take credit for the woman she’s become. But do I really deserve that credit? Because the truth…