My grandmother had waited months to celebrate her 100th birthday.
She just looked at me and said, “Kylie, I trusted you.”
***
Three hours earlier, my mother, Sarah, had arrived at Grandma’s house with a warning.
“You’re not bringing up those invitations tonight, are you?”
I was setting glasses on the dining table.
“Hello, Mom. It’s nice to see you, too.”
“I’m serious. Grandma’s turning 100. Don’t spoil her birthday by making everyone feel guilty.”
“Kylie, I trusted you.”
I glanced toward the living room, where a wooden box sat beside Grandma’s family photographs.
“Nobody’s mentioned the invitations except you.”
Mom folded her arms.
“You’ve been angry with us for months, Kylie.”
“Then perhaps we should discuss that another day.”
Before she could answer, Grandma Evelyn appeared in the doorway.
Mom folded her arms.
“Is everything all right here?”
“Of course, Mom,” Mom replied.
Grandma studied us briefly.
“Good. Because I’ve got six children coming for dinner, and I’d rather they didn’t spend the evening arguing.”
I almost laughed at the timing.
She’d spent the morning planning everyone’s favorite dishes.
“Is everything all right here?”
Her six children rarely visited together anymore, and she was determined to make the evening special.
I wanted that for her, too.
***
Three months before Grandma’s 100th birthday, she called me with a request.
“Kylie, could you come over Saturday? There’s something I’d like your help with.”
I was 32, lived 20 minutes away, and had visited Grandma every week for years.
I wanted that for her, too.
She was my favorite person to spend an afternoon with.
After my grandfather, Richard, died, she’d raised six young children alone. She worked two jobs, sometimes three, to keep the house they’d built together.
When grandchildren arrived, she helped raise us, too.
I spent afternoons with her while my parents worked.
But as everyone grew older, visits became rare.
I’d watched Grandma excuse her children’s absence for years.
She helped raise us, too.
That Saturday, she showed me six invitation cards.
“I’d like each of them to spend an afternoon with me before my birthday.”
“All six?”
“Separately. I want to hear about their lives without everyone rushing off.”
I helped her prepare the cards, but she decided calling would feel more personal.
Over the following weeks, Grandma arranged an afternoon with each child.
“I’d like each of them to spend an afternoon with me.”
All six agreed to visit. All six later canceled.
One afternoon, I found her looking at the calendar.
“Did Mom cancel the new date, too?”
“She says she’s busy, hon.”
“Did she suggest another day?”
Grandma handed me her phone.
All six agreed to visit.
“Mom, we can’t keep dropping everything whenever you’re lonely.”
“Was I asking too much, Kylie?” Grandma asked.
“No. You wanted to see your daughter.”
She asked me to print the message and placed it with the unused cards and calendar in a wooden box.
At the bottom of the calendar, she’d written:
“Nobody came. Maybe we’ll all be together before I’m gone.”
“Was I asking too much, Kylie?”
Grandma never mentioned the missed visits again.
I couldn’t forget them.
***
“Do you think Colin still dislikes onions?”
Grandma was checking the food when she asked.
Uncle Colin was her oldest son. He’d moved away years earlier and hadn’t visited in almost two years.
I couldn’t forget them.
“Grandma, he’s nearly 70. He can decide what to eat. Or pick out onions himself.”
She smiled.
“He used to complain whenever I put onions in anything.”
“Then he can tell you whether he’s changed his mind.”
She laughed and returned to the roast.
I noticed an old photograph on the counter.
“Grandma, he’s nearly 70.”
“Is that you and Grandpa Richard at the coast?”
Grandma smiled.
“Our first trip together. I’ve always wanted to go back.”
***
By five o’clock, the house was filling with relatives.
Grandma greeted each of her six children with a long hug.
Uncle Colin arrived carrying sparkling cider.
The house was filling with relatives.
After greeting her, he glanced around the living room.
“Mom, these floors are getting worn. You ever think about moving somewhere smaller?”
“I’ve thought about it.”
“And?”
“I decided I still like my home, Colin.”
