There was one particular moment when I knew that I was part of Steve’s family. He and I were engaged, and visiting his parents’ Lodi home for Christmas. We walked into the house after the long drive from Los Angeles, and found the entire place decorated from ceiling to floor. The tree was ornamented, a wreath was fastened to the door, and stockings were hung above the fireplace. Debbie had made each family member a felt Christmas stocking, handsewn and embroidered with his or her name. Nestled in the middle of the row was a new stocking that hadn’t been there in previous Christmases. A stocking with my name on it. Welcomed and embraced into the family.
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