Not yellow.
White.
Daniel called.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know.”
“Why white?”
“They were on sale.”
Daniel laughed until he cried.
Useful antidote to symbolism.
I grew older.
Eventually needed help myself.
That changed my relationship with Ethan.
He offered to carry groceries once.
I said:
“Careful. That’s how Mom trapped you.”
He laughed.
“Too late.”
But he always asked.
That mattered.
Do you want me to come to the appointment?
Do you want help with the stairs?
Do you want company?
Not assumptions.
Mom had taught him kindness.
Her mistakes taught him consent.
Both legacies.
At eighty, I decided to move into assisted living.
My choice.
My children? I had no children mentioned; as narrator sibling maybe not. Keep neutral. Daniel protested more than Ethan.
Daniel said:
“You can stay at my house.”
I said:
“No.”
Ethan nodded.
Daniel looked at him.
“You’re not going to argue?”
“She said no.”
