At thanksgiving dinner, my daughter told me to “stop begging for money” when I reminded her of the debt she owed. my other kids agreed. I just smiled and said, “you’re right.” the next morning, she realized that one quiet text from me could change everything.

When my daughter Margaret looked me dead in the eye at Thanksgiving dinner and said, “Stop constantly asking for money. It’s embarrassing,” I felt something inside me crack like ice on a frozen lake. For a moment, the cheerful sounds of the holiday—the clinking of silverware, the low murmur of my grandchildren’s chatter, the background hum of the football game—all faded into a dull roar in my ears. I looked at her, my eldest, the child I had rocked to sleep and whose scraped knees I had bandaged, and I saw a stranger.