I bought plane tickets for the whole family, but at the airport my daughter-in-law gently told me they had given my seat to her own mother because the kids feel ‘closer to her,’ and my son quietly agreed. I froze for a moment, then smiled and walked away without raising my voice. One minute later, after I’d calmed myself, I changed the entire $47,000 Hawaii vacation with a single polite phone call and quietly rearranged my $5.8 million estate in a way no one expected.

Since then, I’ve been on three more dates with Robert. We’re taking things slowly, but I enjoy his company. He brings me books he thinks I’ll like and listens when I talk about the years I spent at Chicago Memorial. He never once makes me feel like an obligation.

I’ve lost fifteen pounds, not from stress but from relief and regular exercise. I’ve read thirty-four books this year. I’ve taken up oil painting. I’ve reconnected with colleagues I’d lost touch with. I’ve lived more fully in the past eight months than I did in the previous eight years, because I’m not spending all my energy being the perfect mother and grandmother anymore.

I’m just being Margaret.

Last Sunday, while we were making chocolate chip cookies, Emma asked me a question.

“Grandma, are you still mad at Daddy?” she said as she rolled dough between her small hands.