That night I missed my father the most. I missed my mother, too. When I was little, I drew a picture of our family for the first time. It all started with a big round face and some arms and legs sticking out. That was my perfect life even with smudges and poorly drawn lines.

Now, my life was a whole mess of other things with new thoughts, new feelings, regrets, big dreams, and enormous doubts. I wondered if I could ever recognize my little crayon picture anymore.

My room back at home was complete with my special ceiling design. The bare wall by my window was cracked like a...