She sat on the soft beige couch, the same one she had kept for nearly four decades, and watched the light from the lamp stretch shadows across the walls. At 104 years old, she had learned that silence could become a companion—sometimes heavier than any sorrow, sometimes the only thing that made her feel alive.
Her name had once echoed in a home filled with laughter, footsteps, and the voices of people she loved more than life itself. She was a mother once……..
