At Christmas Dinner, My Daughter Tried To Take My Home Until I Opened …

air like a prize. I just nodded, not really caring. This is my home. I don’t see dollars. When I look at these walls, I see the height marks we carved into the pantry door as Catherine grew up.

I see the spot on the rug where Arthur spilled red wine on our 25th anniversary. Catherine chimed in then. She didn’t look at me. She was busy folding a napkin.continue reading …