The girls are home. I cried while they were gone. A lot. I walked past their bedrooms trying not to get caught up in the twisted sheets and discarded clothes all wrapped up in their summery scent of cut grass, lake water and cheesey-snack dust. Then the first morning without them came and the room pulled me in. I ran my fingers along the blocks they’d connected. “Mom, did you see how we made rooms and how the ones sticking out by the planet come together and make a chair? You make chairs with blocks, so we did it like you. Do you love it most of all?” I stood inside the block kingdom and let the sunlight that had drawn me in wash…