After I left university I lived at our family home for a short time and, once I had a job, I moved to a flat-share. My mother was devastated and deeply hurt. After all, in her generation you lived with your parents until you got married. Moreover, the flat was nothing like so comfortable as the family home.
I was sorry that she felt abandoned and wrote her a long letter in which I told her that I no longer needed her to cook my meals or do my laundry but that I relied on her to comfort me when I was sad, rejoice with me when I was successful, to love me unconditionally and be my "go to" person when I was puzzled or confused.
After she died, many years later, I found the letter safely tucked away in a drawer in her bedroom. So I did say something special and important to her before she died – and she knew it.
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