A few weeks later, during a quiet family gathering, I shared a recording of Caleb’s voice saying, “Goodnight, Mommy. I love you,” something he had once recorded for fun. The room fell silent. Instead of accusing or shouting, I gently explained that his belongings were not just “old things,” but pieces of a life we cherished. Ethan supported me, and the family finally understood that grief is not something to be erased, but something to be honored with compassion and respect.

Since that day, boundaries were established for healing and emotional safety. Lorraine, overwhelmed by the impact of her actions, became quiet and reflective. We may not fully reconcile yet, but Caleb’s memory is now treated with care and dignity. I still miss him every day, but I carry him in my heart with peace instead of fear — knowing that love, when honored, is stronger than misunderstanding.