I smiled.
“The gray one?”
“Yes. The door closes perfectly now.”
I laughed.
“Your father would be proud.”
This year, Christmas planning began differently.
In early December, Renee called me.
“Joanne, I’ve been thinking about what we should do for the holidays.”
For a moment, I remembered the painful conversation from the previous year.
Then she continued.
“What if we all volunteered at Westdale on Christmas morning? You, Adam, the kids, my mom, and me.”
I sat quietly.
“And afterward,” she added, “we could go to your house for dinner, presents, and your famous pecan pie.”
I smiled.
“Renee, that sounds wonderful.”
So that’s exactly what we did.
On Christmas morning, our family arrived at Westdale wearing matching red volunteer aprons.
Adam helped prepare the turkeys.
Renee and Pat worked on the stuffing.
Lily handed out rolls.
Noah carefully arranged napkins.
And I returned to my familiar station serving mashed potatoes.
