In the weeks that followed, we sorted through his things together — sometimes laughing at the little treasures he kept, sometimes stepping away when the memories got too heavy. We weren’t strangers anymore; we were two people who loved the same man in different ways, trying to carry his memory forward with gentleness. His final words didn’t leave either of us with material gifts — they left something far more lasting: healing, mutual respect, and a new connection built exactly the way he believed families are made — through kindness, presence, and genuine understanding.
