The Final Morning
My mother left this world one quiet morning in late autumn. There was no drama, no sudden alarm—just a peaceful fading, like the soft flicker of an oil lamp running out of fuel. Her passing was gentle, yet it left an ache so deep that silence itself seemed to mourn.
Her last words, spoken with a faint smile, still echo in my mind:
“The money isn’t much, but I want my children to live in righteousness and harmony. Don’t make my soul sad in the afterlife.”
At the time, I didn’t understand the full weight of her message. But life has a way of revealing wisdom slowly—and often painfully.
