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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.

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