At My Mother’s Funeral, A Recognition That Rewrote My Love Story

we can genuinely give right now.”

She nodded, seeming to understand that this measured approach was more than she could have reasonably expected, more grace than she’d shown me.

We parted with an awkward hug, the first physical contact we’d had in six years, and it felt like both an ending and a potential beginning.

Epilogue: The Architecture of Happiness

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