The same table where I’d read Nana’s letter and realized that defending myself also meant defending her.
I removed the letter one final time.
Then I walked to my desk and took out the photograph from my commissioning ceremony.
Nana stood beside me in a pale blue dress, smiling so broadly that her eyes had nearly disappeared.
I sat down.
For a long time, I looked at her face.
Then I unfolded the letter.
I’d read it so many times that I knew nearly every sentence.
But that evening, one passage struck me differently.
Money gives you room to make choices, sweetheart. Make sure the choices are yours.
I smiled through tears.
She’d said those words to me years earlier.
Now she’d written them down.
I thought about the estate.
The decisions I’d need to make.
The responsibilities involved.
The financial planning, legal administration, and careful choices that would follow.
