“Anything.”
“When I’m gone, don’t waste time on bitterness. Your mother made her choice, and it was the wrong one. But don’t let that choice define your life.”
I felt a chill despite the summer heat.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
She smiled sadly. “We all go somewhere eventually, honey. Just promise me you’ll live fully.
That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
“I promise,” I whispered, resting my head on her shoulder like I had countless times before.
Three months later, she was gone. A stroke in her sleep. “Peaceful and a blessing, really,” the doctor said.
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