My mother-in-law pointed at the door during New Year’s dinner and snapped, **“If you don’t like my rules, get out!”** – Welcome

to make the transfer official on Christmas Day.

Now I sat in the grocery-store parking lot with the paperwork in my purse and heard Dad’s voice again.

Everything was easier without you there.

The irony was almost impressive.

For years, I had been the person who made family events easier.

Nobody officially gave me that job.

It accumulated gradually.

I remembered continue reading …