It broke my heart. My years of animosity and the hurtful things I spoke to her were founded on falsehoods.
She had been there by me the whole time, shielding me from harm, even if it made her seem bad to me.
I held the journal close to my chest while I sobbed for hours. It was too late to apologize or tell her I understood;
I had hated her for so long.
I made a solemn vow then and there to carry on her legacy. Let go of the resentment that had harmed our relationship;
I would forgive her, just as she had always wished for. I felt bad about every angry phrase and hard moment because I knew she loved me, imperfectly.