My mom died in January, and for months, I called her old phone number just to hear her familiar voicemail greeting, “Hi honey, leave a message.” But on New Year’s Eve, the phone company finally disconnected the number, and I broke down crying on the street outside my apartment. A passing woman noticed my distress, stopped to ask if I was okay, and listened as I shared my grief with a complete stranger. Sitting beside me on the cold curb, she gently said, “Then talk. I’ll listen. Start the year letting someone hold the weight with you.” She stayed with me until midnight, then gave me her phone number and told me to call her whenever I needed someone. A few days later, I tried calling, but the number wasn’t in service. I never discovered whether she had made a mistake or whether the number was never meant to work. Yet, strangely, I didn’t feel abandoned. Instead, I felt as though my mom had sent me one last kindness through a stranger, giving me the comfort I needed to begin letting go.READ MORE BELOW