By summer the deck was quiet again. Dad wears the robe every morning and watches the tide with his coffee, and Mom planted hydrangeas along the blue fence. In August, Tessa called and asked if she and the children could visit for lunch only.
Dad said yes, and that they should leave before dinner. I laughed, and so did he. A gift is not finished until the people it was meant for feel free to keep it. That house was never just shingles and wood. It was where my parents could finally rest.
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