I Became the Guardian of My Four Grandchildren at 71

The address led me to a small house.

“I’m William,” he said. “I was your daughter’s doctor.”

He gestured to the couch. “Please. Sit down.”

William sat across from me and pulled out a folder. “Your daughter was diagnosed with stage four cancer a year ago.”

Everything inside me went very still. “What?”

“She came to me after she started experiencing symptoms. We ran tests. It was aggressive. She had less than a year.”

“I was your daughter’s doctor.”

“She bought those gifts for her children over the course of several months. She wanted them to have something from her for every important moment in their lives.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She wanted to. But she said you’d already survived too much. She couldn’t make you watch her fade, too. She asked me to send the package a week before Lily’s birthday. So you’d have time to prepare.”

“She couldn’t make you watch her fade too.”

I looked up at him. “Lily’s birthday is next week.”

“I know. That’s why I sent it to you.” He then handed me a small box. “She wanted you to have this.”

I opened it. Inside was a locket. Gold. Delicate.

The kids hugging me. Taken last summer at the lake. All of us smiling. Darla had been behind the camera.

He then handed me a small box.

William sat quietly while I cried.

Finally, I wiped my eyes. “Did her husband know?”

“No. She hadn’t told him. She planned to divorce him when they got back. He didn’t know any of it. And the crash ended everything before she could say a word.”

I drove home in a daze, wondering why Darla would want me to have the package instead of her husband, when he was still alive, before the crash. It didn’t make sense.

Unless there was something else. Something she hadn’t told William.