The ultimatum hung in the air like a storm cloud: “Walter moves in, or you move out.” At my age, I never imagined I’d be homeless, let alone by the hand of my beloved granddaughter.
As Walter drove me away from Mia’s house that terrible morning, I realized this wasn’t just about a room or a roof over my head. This was about whether people like us – people of a certain age – were allowed to want more from life than just waiting to die.
Our photographic revenge was elegant in its simplicity. By showcasing our love so publicly, we forced Mia to see us not as burdens, but as people. The standing ovation at the exhibition was nice, but the real reward came later – watching Mia set an extra place at the dinner table for Walter without being asked.
Sometimes love means tough lessons. For Mia, it meant learning that happiness has no expiration date. For me? It meant discovering that even at 80, I still had the power to stand up for myself – and in doing so, teach my family what really matters.
