How old do you have to be to make your own choices? Eighteen, Twenty-one, Thirty-five? For Beth it's sixty-six. She decides to shut off the machine that shocks her heart back into rhythm.

Beth knows she won't see another birthday. As she looks back over her life she finds love, not blood, is the foundation of family. Born into chaos in 1946, her mother abandoned her and her siblings one day before her eighth birthday. Even though she was adopted by a loving couple at age eleven, she struggled to find her voice through her teen years and early adulthood.

Now, as she looks back, she sees a tapestry of resilience and love. Are we really the authors of our own fate, controlling our own choices, or are there hints of guidance and protection even in the darkest corners of our pasts?