more often.
Not to ask what Mom and Dad were doing.
To ask what I was doing.
One evening, she brought takeout.
No crisis.
No family problem.
Just dinner.
Halfway through, she said, “I think I understand Christmas now.”
“What part?”
“I kept thinking the bungalow was separate.”
“Like Dad.”
“Yes. I thought you took something practical away because something emotional continue reading …