My daughter turned 23 this week. We celebrated with hamburgers at Folly Beach. The next night her friends took her out to Red's at Shem Creek. We ate Oyster Po-Boys and everyone got to meet Sarah's Dad. But the most memorable, touching moment came when one of the girls quieted everyone down and said a prayer. Among other things, she thanked God for bringing Sarah into our lives. Those were warm and glowing words. I felt part of some grand scheme and that my place in this world was exactly right. That all I had done was done under guidance and for a purpose. We get glimpses of that purpose throughout our lives, but sometimes it passes by so softly that we miss it, a subtle clue that leads us to closure, to understanding, to that elusive peace with ourselves. But last night, at Shem Creek, I got it.