My daughter-in-law laughed as she gave me a $2 scratch-off for my 73rd birthday. Ten months later, my own son shoved a senior living brochure in front of me and said, “We already picked your room.” They thought I was too old to fight back. They had no idea what I had been hiding.

What mattered was giving people questions to ask and confidence to ask them.

At home, I continued the small rituals that brought me joy.

Wednesday morning swimming.

Friday lunch with Delia.

Dinner with Helen when neither of us felt like cooking.

Time with the children arranged in advance, when all of us could enjoy it.

Colin honored his birthday-card promise, though he missed one month when Lucas had the flu.

He called to explain rather than assuming I’d rearrange my life.