A scene would have given her something to work with — a son who was upset, who had come in shouting on Christmas Day, who could be managed and forgiven and eventually explained to the family.

I wanted eleven answers.

We went into my father’s study, which is still my father’s study four years after he died, and she closed the door and said, “What’s happened?

Is it your job?”

I took the envelope out of my jacket and put it on the desk face down, so the back was up, with her handwriting on it.

And she did something that I will be turning over for the rest of my life.