A slideshow of Rosalie’s drawings followed—flowers, hearts, and a child’s rendition of a family portrait, complete with Dolores’s distinct eyeglasses. A soft gasp escaped Dolores’s lips. The children, previously hushed by the drama, were now captivated, their eyes glued to the vibrant canvas of Rosalie’s world.
The room remained silent as the video concluded with the words, “We love you, Grandma,” written in Rosalie’s charmingly crooked handwriting. The air was still; Dolores’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. It was a look I’d never seen from her—a mixture of remorse, surprise, and a rare vulnerability.
