I was seated in the farthest corner. Not next to my son, not next to my grandson, but off to the side, almost against the wall. No one came up to me. No one asked if I was comfortable. No one offered to change seats.
My son was at the center of attention, next to him his wife, elegant and confident. Around them were her relatives. They spoke louder than anyone else and felt like the hosts of the celebration. To them, I was just background. An elderly woman in old clothes, easy to ignore.
When it was time to give presents, people approached the table one by one. Boxes, bags, toys, envelopes. I stayed seated for a long time. I waited. Not out of fear, but because I knew: my turn interested no one.
But in the end, I stood up. I walked over to my son and handed him an envelope with money. It wasn’t my last money, but honestly saved.
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