I never thought she would leave me anything. Not money. Not land. Not even a formal “thank you.” I cared for her because it came directly from my heart.
But the other children didn’t see it that way. When they did visit, they’d stay for a few minutes, ask how she was doing, bring a small basket of fruit, and say the exact same thing before driving away:
“Oh, Mabel, it’s so good you have so much patience.”
“We just couldn’t do it.”
“You know how Mom is—so stubborn.”
I smiled out of politeness. But inside, it hurt. Because yes, they all knew I cared for her… but no one stayed to see the bad nights. No one heard her calling out for her late husband in her dreams. No one saw her cry in silence when she could no longer walk out to the front porch on her own.
