The Hard Truths I Learned While Looking After My Mother at Home

During the graduation ceremony, my son arrived wearing a puffy red gown. The room shifted the moment he walked in.

It was brighter than the standard issue. Fuller. Different. It caught the light—and everyone’s attention. A few heads turned. A whisper traveled across the row behind me. Someone chuckled softly.

And I felt something tighten in my chest.

Not because of the gown.

But because of everything it represented.