Over the next few weeks, I tried to make peace with the situation. I spent more time with my mother, listening to her stories and absorbing her wisdom. Each conversation was a step towards understanding, even if the full picture remained elusive.
One afternoon, as we sat in the garden, she began to speak about her own childhood, the struggles her family faced, and the sacrifices they made. Her voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of emotion that resonated with me.
« I never wanted you to feel the way I did, » she confessed, her eyes distant. « That’s why I made the choices I did. To protect you all, in the ways I couldn’t protect myself. »
Her words were a revelation, a glimpse into the motivations behind her decisions. It wasn’t just about money or assets—it was about legacy and love, in its most complicated forms.
I nodded, finally understanding the depth of what she was trying to convey. « Thank you for sharing that, » I said softly, realizing that this was the closest we had been in a long time.
The journey to understanding was far from over, but I felt a sense of peace beginning to settle within me.
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