Chapter 26 - MY LAST CHRISTMAS IN THE OLD DINING ROOM
At eighty-six, I decided to move from the property.
My choice.
Assisted-living apartment nearby.
Not because anyone filed forms.
Because stairs annoyed me and I wanted nurses close.
The irony delighted me.
Emily helped pack.
Ava cried.
Noah complained about my boxes.
I found the wooden chair ornament.
Still intact.
I gave it to Ava.
“Why me?”
“Because you made it ordinary.”
She understood.
On my last Christmas there, the community residence served sixty people.
Older residents.
Families.
Volunteers.
Children.
No formal guest of honor.
I sat wherever there was room.
A twelve-year-old boy asked me to move because his grandmother needed the chair closer to the aisle.
I moved.
Gladly.
Then laughed so hard he looked confused.
“What?”
May you like
“Nothing.”
Just chair.
