Or to us.”
Margaret’s lips trembled. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” she whispered. “When I look at Ethan, I see James.
I can’t help it. It’s like… it’s like he’s back.”
“Ethan isn’t James,” I said gently. “He’s his own person.
Your grandson, not your son.”
Peter reached for her hand. “We’ll help you, Mom. But you need to talk to someone.
Someone who can help you work through this. Will you do that?”
Margaret hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered.
“You won’t,” Peter said.
“But things have to change.”
Over the next few months, Margaret started seeing a therapist. She began opening up about James, sharing stories she’d kept buried for decades. The weight she’d carried alone began to lift, and little by little, she started to see Ethan for who he really was.
At first, I stayed close whenever Margaret was with Ethan.
I didn’t leave them alone together, not until I was sure she’d let go of her belief that Ethan was James.
From that day forward, I made it a point to be there, to make sure Ethan was safe. Margaret wasn’t dangerous, but her grief had been overwhelming.
One afternoon, as we sat together in the living room, Margaret turned to me. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“For giving me the chance to heal.”
Weeks later, during a family dinner, I watched Margaret laughing as Ethan giggled in her lap. She kissed his tiny hands, her smile lighter, freer than I’d ever seen.
“He’s got your energy,” Peter teased. “I don’t know how you keep up with him.”
“Oh, I’ve had practice,” Margaret said with a wink.
She caught my eye and gave me a warm smile.
In that moment, I realized something had changed. The weight of the past was no longer holding us down. We’d faced it together, and our family was stronger for it.
Sometimes, healing isn’t about forgetting.
It’s about learning to let go.
Source: amomama
