As my father d.ied, grief didn’t hit me like a ton of bricks, and it didn’t make me feel like I couldn’t get out of bed. Rather, it took over me quietly.
The reading of the will was simple. Nothing out of the ordinary. My half-sister got the house, the savings, the kind of things you associate with a lifetime of work. Papers were signed, numbers were read aloud, and everything seemed neat and final. As the attorney finally turned his gaze upon me, he hesitated a moment too long before speaking.
I was left my father’s cactus.
It was the very same cactus that sat by his window as long as I could remember and leaned a little toward the light. It was uneven but still stable.
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