She held the tiny 3D printed snowflake that her son’s wife purchased at a gas station eight Christmases ago, before the grandkids were born, too heavy for the tiny tree of glass fibers sitting beside the cancer results.
She forgave the girl for stealing her son, and apologized for the harsh words sparked after receiving the trinket. Anything to see them again, she wished.
She answered the door chime.
Behind it, Kyle shouldered a tiny but real fir tree, and two excited children screamed, “Grandma!”
Maria’s hands trembled with a box labeled decorations. “Hi Mom. Can we start over?”
She forgave the girl for stealing her son, and apologized for the harsh words sparked after receiving the trinket. Anything to see them again, she wished.
She answered the door chime.
Behind it, Kyle shouldered a tiny but real fir tree, and two excited children screamed, “Grandma!”
Maria’s hands trembled with a box labeled decorations. “Hi Mom. Can we start over?”
