She explained that the formal arrangements of her estate were set long before, and changing anything would have caused more stress than she could handle in her final chapter. Still, she wanted me to know that the comfort and steadiness I had offered mattered to her more than anything she could have left behind.
But that wasn’t what had upset her son.
He hadn’t understood any of this until he held those papers in his hands and read her written regrets.
He spoke in waves, trying to make sense of emotions that had arrived all at once. I let him speak. Sometimes the best thing we can offer someone is the space to release what has been building silently for years.
When he finally paused, I told him the truth as gently as I could: the letter she wrote to me wasn’t meant to take anything from him. It wasn’t a comparison or a judgment. It was simply her way of expressing gratitude in a quiet way she felt safe doing.
There was no hidden intention, no message between the lines, no reason to feel blamed. It was just her heart speaking plainly.
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