I placed the envelopes before my mother and her siblings.
Each carried a name in her handwriting.
I opened the lid.
“Three months ago, Grandma asked every one of you to spend one afternoon with her.”
Uncle Colin frowned.
“We’ve already explained why we couldn’t come.”
I unfolded the calendar.
Six names appeared beside six crossed-out dates.
“She didn’t ask for anything expensive. She wanted to hear about your lives.”
Uncle Colin frowned.
I placed the photograph beside it.
It showed Grandma and Grandpa outside their newly built home, surrounded by their six children.
“That’s the house you’re arguing about. They built it so you’d have somewhere to grow up.”
Nobody spoke.
Then I reached for Mom’s printed message.
Her expression changed when she realized what it was.
Nobody spoke.
“Kylie, put that away.”
I should’ve listened.
Instead, I read it aloud.
“Mom, we can’t keep dropping everything whenever you’re lonely.”
