The Sacrifice I Thought Was Invisible
For months, I worked extra Saturdays.
I skipped things I wanted.
I postponed buying new clothes.
I cut back wherever I could.
My mother, Dorothy, helped by preparing dinners whenever my work schedule became impossible.
Eventually, I managed to pay the camp fee.
It was more than our monthly mortgage payment.
When I told Mia she was going, she burst into tears.
She hugged me so tightly that I could barely breathe.
“I’ll never forget this,” she whispered.
I smiled.
“You don’t have to remember the money. Just go have fun.”
I thought she understood.
I was wrong.
