“Food is never wasted when someone is hungry.”
It sounded like one of his usual sayings.
Then my mother became ill.
Her health deteriorated over several months, and the appointments that once seemed routine became more frequent. Soon, we were dealing with hospital visits, prescriptions, additional tests, and difficult conversations about treatment.
My savings disappeared faster than I could replenish them.
Then the company where I worked eliminated several positions, including mine.
I tried to stay optimistic. I updated my résumé, contacted former colleagues, and applied for jobs every day. But bills didn’t wait for interviews, and the mortgage company wasn’t interested in hearing that I was trying my best.
One evening, I sat at the kitchen table surrounded by envelopes.
My mother was asleep upstairs. Ray was outside, putting away his gardening tools.
I stared at the latest notice from the bank until the words began to blur.
