Everything changed.
Not because of some grand betrayal.
Not because anyone forced her out.
Because life became expensive.
My grandmother’s health began failing.
Mom needed medical insurance.
Reliable hours.
A job that did not depend on donations, ticket sales, or the decisions of wealthy trustees.
So she took a job processing hospital claims.
She meant to stay involved with the Meridian.
But the theater’s finances deteriorated.
Eleanor became consumed with keeping the foundation afloat.
Mom became consumed with keeping us afloat.
Months became years.
Phone calls became Christmas cards.
Christmas cards became occasional letters.
And then distance hardened around a friendship neither woman had intended to lose.
I reached the third page.
There, my mother finally explained why she never told me.
I thought I would return when things settled down, she wrote.
Then I kept waiting for life to become settled.
You will discover, if you haven’t already, that life almost never does.
