My children were not invited to Christmas because “not enough room.” But my brother’s kids were all over the house. I quietly packed the gifts and left. The next morning, I “opened gifts” Lakewood, just west of Cleveland, Ohio—salt grit on the sidewalks, a ribbon of I-90 still wet from lake-effect flurries, and a small Stars-and-Stripes holding stiff under the porch light. We turned into my parents’ cul-de-sac. I told my two—eleven and eight—we were only dropping presents. Quick in-and-out. They