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One by one, the others began showing up more.
Sam brought groceries.
Nick fixed a broken cabinet.
Even Jack came by.
Living with my mother was an adjustment, but we made it work.
One night, while I was cleaning up after dinner, my mother said, “I didn’t expect it to be you.”
“Yeah. Me neither.”
She smiled, then looked down at her hands.
“I wish I’d done things differently.”
“I get it,” I said. “You were trying to survive.”
Her eyes filled.
“I know.”
Not perfect.
Not erased.
But understood.