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Sometimes people ask me if the silence gets too loud, but I’ve found a certain peace in the stillness of my mornings. My home isn't empty; it's filled with memories and the quiet strength I've built. I've finally learned that being alone is a gift, not a burden.

You see, back in those days, we had this neighbor, very, very kind woman she was. And she would come by sometimes when things were hard, bringing food and such. But people didn't understand her ways, and she kept mostly to herself, working in her garden all alone.

I spent my life building a home of rules and reliability, believing that was love. Now, at ninety, I realize my children didn't need a manager; they needed a mother who could sit in the silence with them. I taught them resilience, but I never taught them connection.

Then there was Linda, she stayed close to home while we were fighting with Michael. I thought I was protecting her, but I was just being stubborn. It took me a long time to realize that holding onto pride doesn't bring back the years we lost together.

Today my granddaughter Sarah came by, probably checking if I've gone senile yet. She brought some health food magazine, talking about senior nutrition. I just smiled and nodded, thinking about the chocolate cake hidden in my kitchen. These young ones always think they know better.

I remember when I was just a little girl, maybe six or seven, there was this lovely old general store in our town. Mr. Thompson, the shopkeeper, would always give us children a piece of candy when we'd come in. He was such a kind soul, bless his heart.

Linda, she stayed closer, but I often wonder if she felt she truly had to. We were so sure we knew best back then, acting out of fear rather than love. Now the house is quiet, and I realize those years of stubborn silence were just wasted time.

I remember when I was just a young girl, maybe seven or eight, there was this lovely old general store in our town. Mr. Thompson, the shopkeeper, was such a kind soul. He would always give us children a piece of candy when our mothers came to shop.