I spent years waiting for my children and grandchildren to remember I existed. Then I won the lottery, and suddenly everyone wanted to come home. For one night, I let them believe they knew why I had gathered them all together. They were wrong.
The first call came at 6:17 the morning after I won the lottery, while my coffee was still dripping and my hands were wrapped around the old “World’s Best Mom” mug my son gave me years ago.
I stared at my phone so long the screen went dark.
Not Denise, not Carla, and certainly not Benjamin.
Still, I checked it every morning.
At 6:15, I made coffee in that same blue mug. The gold letters had faded until “World’s Best Mom” looked more like “World’s Best Mm.”
“Well,” I told the mug. “At least you still remember me.”
I’d raised three kids on my own: Denise, Carla, and Benjamin. I worked two jobs, sat through fevers, heartbreaks, and school plays where I clapped too loudly because somebody had to.
Then they grew up, moved out, and started their own lives.
Somewhere along the way, they forgot about mine.
I had eight grandchildren: Lily, Paige, Nara, Willow, Max, Jeremy, Josiah, and Joanna.
And still, every holiday, I set out one plate.
For Complete Cooking STEPS Please Head On Over To Next Page Or Open button (>) and don’t forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
