The video starts with static, a flicker of sound before my mother’s face fills the screen. My breath catches in my throat as I see her—alive, healthy, smiling. She looks younger than I remember, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders, her eyes full of warmth. It’s like I’m seeing her for the first time, and yet, the weight of what’s to come presses down on me like a lead blanket.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she says, her voice soft but clear. “I don’t really know how to start this, so I guess I’ll just... talk.”
I swallow hard, already feeling the tears burning behind my eyes. I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready to hear her voice, to see her like this—so alive, when she’s been gone for so long.
She takes a deep breath on the screen, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. “By the time you watc
