The tea sat untouched for several minutes.
Nobody seemed ready to return to ordinary conversation.
Russell kept his letter beside his right hand.
Valerie had tucked hers back into its envelope, although she still held the tissue she had used to wipe her face.
Dean sat with his elbows resting on his knees.
I looked at them and wondered how many times we had all sat together without really seeing one another.
When the children were young, our home had been full of noise.
There were arguments over toys, complaints about chores, and questions that came from every direction.
Frank and I had spent years trying to teach them to be kind.
We reminded them to share.
We told them to apologize when they hurt someone.
We told them that family members should look after one another.
Somewhere along the way, I had stopped reminding myself of those same lessons.
I had become so concerned about not troubling my adult children that I had forgotten I was allowed to need them.
I lifted my cup.
The tea had gone cold.
I set it down again.
"There's something else I need to tell you."
Russell looked up.
Valerie turned toward me.
Dean sat a little straighter.
I took a breath.
"When your father died, I thought the hardest part would be learning to live without him."
I paused.
"It wasn't only that."
I could feel my throat tightening.
"It was coming home and realizing that there was nobody waiting for me to tell them what had happened that day."
I looked toward the kitchen.
I could almost see Frank standing there, asking whether I wanted him to make tea.
"He was the person I called when something went wrong. He was the person I told when something made me happy. Even when we disagreed, I knew he would still be there the next morning."
Valerie reached for my hand.
I held it.
"After he died, I kept thinking that if I could just get through the first few weeks, things would become easier."
I shook my head.
"They didn't become easier in the way I expected."
Russell leaned forward.
"What was the hardest part, Mom?"
I looked at him.
"Feeling that I had become somebody people needed to fit into their schedules."
He lowered his eyes.
I continued.
"I know you have responsibilities. I know you have children and work and homes to look after. I have never wanted to compete with those things."
I stopped for a moment.
"But sometimes I wanted someone to call because they wanted to hear my voice."
Nobody interrupted.
"I wanted to be asked whether I had slept well. I wanted someone to remember that the evenings were difficult for me. I wanted to tell a story about your father without feeling that I was keeping everyone on the telephone too long."
My voice broke.
I looked down at my hands.
"I was lonely before I called you. But after those conversations, I felt lonely in a different way."
Valerie began crying again.
This time, she did not try to explain herself.
She simply held my hand.
Russell rubbed his face.
"I didn't know."
I nodded.
"I know you didn't."
That was the truth.
I had hidden my feelings so carefully that my children might have believed I was managing better than I was.
I had told them I was fine when I was not.
I had changed the subject whenever I thought my sadness might make them uncomfortable.
I had even told Frank, during his final months, that the children would take care of me.
I had believed it.
But believing something and preparing for it were not the same thing.
Dean finally spoke.
"You could have called me sooner, Mom."
I looked at him.
"I was afraid of asking too much."
He shook his head.
"You weren't asking too much."
I smiled sadly.
"I know that now."
He leaned back against the couch.
The spring made its familiar sound.
For some reason, that small noise brought back the morning he had collected me.
He had arrived in forty minutes.
He had not asked whether I could pay him back.
He had not asked whether I had considered the effect on his family.
He had simply come.
I looked at him.
"I am sorry I didn't always recognize how much you were doing for us."
He seemed uncomfortable.
"Mom, you don't have to keep apologizing."
"I know. But I want you to hear it."
He nodded.
I reached across the table and touched his hand.
"I was proud of you. I just didn't always know how to show it."
He looked down at our hands.
For a moment, he seemed younger.
Then he squeezed my fingers.
"That's all right."
I knew it was not that simple.
But I also knew he was not asking me to spend the rest of the evening regretting the past.
He wanted us to move forward.
Russell picked up his letter again.
"I think I understand why Dad was worried."
I turned toward him.
He stared at the page.
"He knew you would try to protect us from how you felt."
I thought about that.
Frank had known me for almost fifty years.
He had seen me smooth over arguments, excuse disappointments, and make things easier for everyone else.
Perhaps he had understood that I would do the same thing after he was gone.
Perhaps that was why he had asked me to pay attention.
Not to punish our children.
Not to divide the family.
But to stop pretending that love meant never telling the truth.
Valerie wiped her eyes.
"I don't want you to feel like that again."
I looked at her.
"Then don't let me feel that way."
She nodded.
It was a simple request.
It was also one I should have made long ago.
I did not ask them to promise that they would never disappoint me.
People disappointed one another.
Families had difficult days.
Life did not become perfect because everyone finally understood what had gone wrong.
I only wanted us to begin speaking honestly.
I wanted to stop saying I was fine when I needed company.
I wanted them to stop assuming that silence meant I needed nothing.
And I wanted to give them the chance to show me what they had learned.
For the first time that evening, I felt that we were no longer talking only about what had happened.
We were beginning to talk about what could happen next.
Click here to continue reading: PART 18: Russell Asked Whether He Could Make Things Right, but I Told Him That One Evening Could Not Replace the Time We Had Lost
At Seventy-Six, I Made Three Phone Calls That Showed Me How Much My Children Had Changed
Part 17 of 24
