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Little did I know how wrong I was.
When I brought Mom home with me, we decided the guest room would be the best option for her since it was cozy, quiet, and close to the kitchen.
“I don’t want to be a burden, Julia,” she whispered, holding my hand. “You’re doing too much for me.”
I squeezed back and said firmly, “You could never be a burden.
You’re my mom.”
She slipped into our home life so gently that it was almost seamless. She was polite, respectful, and incredibly humble.
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