She Didn’t Visit Her Mother for 3 Years. Then She Got This Package
Susan kept avoiding the visits.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love her mother. It was just… life.
The nursing home was forty minutes away. Her job had gotten hectic. Traffic was always a nightmare. And honestly, the conversations had grown awkward. Her mother barely remembered birthdays anymore. Sometimes even names.
So the visits became calls. Then texts. Then nothing at all.
Until one rainy Tuesday morning, a delivery man left a small, weathered box on her porch. No return label—just her name, and in handwriting she hadn’t seen in years: her mother’s.
Susan stood frozen for a moment, heart racing. Her mother had passed away six weeks earlier.
She hadn’t even made it to the funeral.
💌 What Her Mother Sent… Changed Everything
She sat at the kitchen table, box in her lap, fingers trembling.
Inside was tissue paper, yellowed from time. A folded scarf. A silver brooch. A small envelope with two words on the front:
“For Susan.”
She opened it.
It was a letter. Written slowly, in shaky but unmistakable penmanship. The first lines read:
“I know you’re busy, sweetheart. I know you stopped visiting. I forgive you.”
Susan’s eyes filled with tears before she reached the next part.
The letter went on to describe moments Susan had long forgotten:
- The day she lost her first tooth.
- A drawing she made in second grade and taped to the fridge.
- A story her mother would tell her at bedtime, night after night, until Susan knew it by heart.
But then came the part that silenced her completely.
“I left something else for you. A notebook. I wrote in it every day for the past year… even when I couldn’t remember what day it was.
It’s in the back of my closet. Ask Mary (the nurse). She knows where it is.”
Susan felt a chill pass through her.
She hadn’t seen her mother in over three years. And yet, her mother had been writing to her. Every single day.
🕊️ A Second Chance—Even After Goodbye
That weekend, Susan drove to the nursing home.
Mary, the nurse, was waiting.
“Yes,” she said, “Your mom told me you’d come. She even made me promise not to tell you until the package arrived.”
They found the notebook tucked behind a shoebox. Worn blue cover, pages full of tiny, looping cursive.
Each entry began with:
“Dear Susan…”