Those thoughtful gestures stayed with me long after I grew up. When Dorothy reached an age when household chores became difficult, helping her seemed like the obvious thing to do.
I picked up groceries for her, tidied the house whenever necessary, and stopped by several times each week.
On certain days, we just enjoyed a conversation. On others, I handled minor repairs or checked that she had enough supplies before returning home.
I never considered it an obligation.
Dorothy had supported my family for years, and looking after her felt like returning a kindness I’d received long ago.
So when her behavior suddenly shifted, I noticed immediately.
**“I Have Alex Now”**
Roughly a month earlier, Dorothy unexpectedly suggested that I reduce my visits.
We were standing in her kitchen when she brought it up.
“You don’t have to keep coming over,” she told me.
