One showed the porch, another the white rail and the three steps.
Others showed the crooked house number.
Another showed the hydrangeas in bloom.
When mine finally came into full color in July, I sent him a picture.
He responded in about 90 seconds.
“Look at those. Told you they’d recover.”
I smiled at my phone for a stupid amount of time.
We never video-called.
There was always a reason.
His old phone or bad signal.
He hated cameras.
Once he said, “At our age, mirrors are already rude enough. Why invite a camera?”
I laughed, but I noticed. I noticed every single time.
And every single time I decided it didn’t matter.
I’ve spent 40 years being the sensible one.
The woman who checks the weather.
The woman who reads the fine print.
The woman who spots the problem before everyone else.
I was tired of being the person who ruined things by asking one question too many.
