Chapter 23
Isit cross-legged on the floor of my apartment, surrounded by boxes that have remained sealed since my mother passed away.
Today, the weight of everything feels heavier—the vandalism at my bookstore, the revelation of having no insurance, and now, facing the remnants of my mom’s life packed away in these cardboard containers.
I start with the least daunting box, the one filled with photos and personal items that I couldn’t bear to part with. It’s been just me and my mom for as long as I can remember, and each photograph tells a part of our story. I pull out an album, dusty but familiar, and begin flipping through it.
There’s a picture of my mom and me at the beach, her laughter frozen in time. I run my fingers over the image, smiling through the sting of tears. The next few pages are filled with memories of me growing up, snapshots of birthdays, school events, and lazy summer days.
There’s Sophie and me at our middle school graduation, wide-eyed and hopeful. Then, a photo of Connor, Ty, and me at our high school graduation, all of us grinning, unaware of the roads that would soon diverge and weave back together in unpredictable ways.
As I reach the back of the album, a folded piece of paper falls out and when I see the familiar handwriting, my heart drops. It’s a letter, addressed to me in my mother’s neat script. My hands tremble as I unfold it, the reality of her absence crashing into me once again. The letter is dated around the time of my high school graduation—a period when we had argued about my future.
My dearest Gracie,
If you’re reading this, it means you’ve found it exactly when you need it. Today you graduate from high school, and I couldn’t be prouder of the person you have become. You are my joy, my heart, and seeing you grow up has been my life’s greatest pleasure.
We argued recently about your future, about college. I know you, Gracie. I know your heart is here, helping me at the bookstore and staying close to what you know. But my darling girl, there is so much world out there for you to see, so much life for you to live. I don’t want you to look back one day and realize you stayed for me, and in doing so, missed out on your dreams.
I love our bookstore, I love what we have, but I love you more. I want you to fly, to explore, to live. If you choose to stay, let it be for yourself, not for me. I will be alright. More than alright knowing you are out in the world, turning pages not just in books but in your life’s story.
Remember, you’re never truly stuck unless you choose to be. I love you more than anything, and I want you to grasp every opportunity that life offers.
And I love you too much to be the anchor that holds you back.
Mom
Tears stream down my face as I read and reread the letter, each word is a bittersweet reminder of her love and her selflessness. She had always put me first, even in her final wishes for me. The pain of her loss mixes with a new kind of pain—the pain of understanding the sacrifices she was willing to make for my happiness.
I clutch the letter to my chest, sobbing quietly in the solitude of my apartment. Trust my mom to leave something for me to find just when I need it… but it doesn’t make anything any easier.
I knew she wanted me to spread my wings, but how can I do that so soon? Everything still feels raw and exposed, and being in the bookstore helped me feel closer to her. Could I honestly just let everything go after all this time?
There’s no saving the bookstore with my meager savings, I know this. Connor and Sophie both offered their help, but I couldn’t take their money knowing that even if the bookstore was up and running again, I’d never make that amount of money back.
God, I know what I need to do… my heart aches knowing the truth.
After a while, I wipe my eyes and take a deep breath, feeling a resolve building inside me. My mom wanted more for me, and maybe it’s time to honor that. I reach for my phone, still shaky, and dial Sophie’s number. She answers on the second ring, her voice immediately filled with concern.
“Gracie? What’s wrong?”
I take a deep breath, steadying my voice. “Soph, I found a letter my mother wrote me for graduation,” I say and hear Sophie’s gasp. “She... she wanted me to live a bigger life than just staying here to run the bookstore because I felt I had to.”
Sophie’s voice is soft, understanding. “Oh, Gracie, that’s huge. But we both know how your mom was; hell, she gave me advice that practically saved me once or twice,” she says cryptically and sighs. “What do you want to do about it?”
“I don’t know yet,” I admit, a mix of fear and excitement swirling within me. “I think it’s time I really figured it out.”
“Well, whatever you decide, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”
I smile, a genuine smile despite the tears. “I know, Soph. Thank you.”
We talked a little longer, making plans to meet up at The Sugar Drop tomorrow so I can show her the letter and talk more about my ideas for the future. After hanging up, I feel a little lighter, a little more hopeful.
My mom’s words have given me a gift—a push to live fully, bravely, just as she had always intended. I wonder what Connor will say when I tell him my mother’s wishes for me are just as he said that night under the stars.