He would look around the property and say the acreage was becoming too much for me to maintain alone.
He suggested I might be happier in a smaller house closer to town.
He mentioned senior communities with lawn service, medical facilities, and neighbors nearby.
Nothing he said sounded openly unreasonable. Nothing was aggressive enough to make me suspicious. I assumed he was worried about his aging father. I believed he wanted to make sure I was safe living alone at the end of an isolated road.
Then the comments became more frequent.
And more pointed.
One Sunday afternoon, Michael sat across from me at the kitchen table while I poured us each a cup of coffee.
“You know, Dad, a developer approached me the other day,” he said. “They’re interested in this whole area. They would pay good money for your land.”
I stopped pouring and looked at him.
