She was always struggling with shoelaces.
Every time she took off her shoes there were always efforts to untie the knots. One day I asked if I might look at them.
"Sure. They're always tight. No big deal."
"Hon, you should just have to pull one end of a lace. The knot should come undone. Let me look at them."
They were knots alright. But not correct ones. I showed her how to tie a shoelace.
I hugged her when she did it herself.
She was thirty years old.
Her lousy childhood gave me another reason to love her.