When I asked again if anyone planned to eat, my brother stepped outside, his wife waved that she was busy, and the kids didn’t look up. Fried fish doesn’t reheat well, and I didn’t want it to spoil, so I sadly stood by the trash can, considering throwing it away.

Just then, my brother walked in and asked, “What are you doing?” Before I could answer, our mom, who hadn’t been feeling well and had been resting in the guest room, appeared and gently said, “Dave, your sister spent all day making this for you because she loves you.”