Both contributions mattered.
That was the lesson.
My mother went to her room after dinner.
She was tired, the good tired of an evening that had contained more than the evenings usually did.
I walked her to the door.
She said: Sara.
I said: yes.
She said: you were always going to be all right.
I said: what do you mean?
She said: even when you were small. You always figured out what was true and then you said it.
I said: you did too.
She said: not like you.
She said: tonight was you.
I said: you told him not to do it again.
She said: that was easy.
She said: what you did took nine years.
She said it with the specific meaning of someone who has watched nine years of a marriage and who knows what nine years of a marriage requires to produce the kind of clarity that was on the table tonight.
