As I sat there, surrounded by her most intimate thoughts and memories, I felt a profound sense of guilt mixed with a deep gratitude. I wished more than anything that I could have helped her, that I could have seen the signs and reached out to her. But I was also grateful for this opportunity to understand her better, even if it was too late.

I carefully returned everything to the box, knowing that these items were far more than just memories. They were pieces of her life that she had chosen to share with me, an invitation to know her in the way she was unable to express while she was alive. I realized then that getting rid of her belongings would not ease the pain, but keeping them could help us heal.