Memories Of Their Mother
We were seated around the dinner table one quiet evening when Jonas suddenly spoke out. Do you recall your mother? His voice was quiet as he requested. We were silent while the question lingered. Even though it was a far-off echo, the recollection was powerful. James, who had just been a baby, recalled less vividly than Eva, who scowled. It felt like touching a bruise to talk about her. We walked with caution, honoring the subtleties of our shared history.
Memories Of Their Mother
Her Lingering Presence
The question from Jonas made the air feel thick. Charlotte hovered just out of grasp, hovering over us like she was there. An unsolved question that never really went away was her leaving. I occasionally noticed their eyes straying to the door, anticipating her return. She shaped who we were and was an unshakeable presence in our lives. We discovered how to fill the vacuum she had left with our own tales, treasured recollections, and brand-new customs.
Memories Of Their Mother
