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.

The word home made his expression tighten.

“Will you tell me where it is?”

“When I’m ready.”

I hugged him, because my anger had not destroyed my love.

His arms stayed stiff at first, then closed around me.

When he whispered, “I’m sorry this got so out of hand,” I felt how far we still had to go.

He was sorry there was a crisis.

I needed him to understand what had caused it.