The Beginning of the Change
It had been six years since my father passed away. My mother, Colleen, had always been the backbone of our family. She raised me and my siblings with such strength and love, the kind that filled our home with warmth. Dad had been her partner in everything. They were high school sweethearts and had been married for 32 years. They were the kind of couple that made you believe in forever. I remember how Dad used to bring her coffee every morning before work, and the way he would kiss her on the temple before leaving. She would always fold his socks just the way he liked them—paired and rolled, never bunched. It was the little things like that that showed the depth of their bond.
