I walked away from the bench that day without giving him an answer. The weight of the choice felt overwhelming, and I needed time to understand what compassion truly meant for me. I didn’t know yet what I would decide, only that my mother trusted me to face it honestly. As painful as that day was, I realized the tradition hadn’t been broken after all. It had changed, carrying me forward just as she said it would—into a moment where love, grief, and choice all met. And somehow, even in her absence, she was still guiding me.
