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.
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“So instead you arranged my retirement into a facility I hadn’t chosen?”
He winced.
“I know how it looks.”
“It’s not about how it looks, Colin.
It’s about what it was.”
He apologized then, plainly and without a justification attached.
It didn’t heal everything.
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