At My Grandma’s Funeral, I Saw My Mom Hiding a Package in

A Final Farewell

At my grandmother Catherine’s funeral, I felt lost. She wasn’t just family—she was my home, my anchor.

As I stood beside her casket, neighbors shared warm memories. “She has the perfect touch with the cinnamon,” Mrs. Anderson recalled. But something strange happened—my mother, Victoria, discreetly slipped a small package into the coffin. They hadn’t spoken in years. The gesture didn’t sit right with me.

A Hidden Truth

Later, when the room emptied, I retrieved the hidden package from beneath Grandma’s dress. It was wrapped in her old handkerchief—the one with the “C” she embroidered long ago. Inside were letters, all addressed to my mother. The first read: “I know what you did. Did you think I wouldn’t notice the missing money?” Grandma had discovered Mom’s gambling and the money she stole. Each letter detailed her heartbreak and growing mistrust.

A Cruel Confession

The final letter, written just two days after Grandma’s death, was from my mother:
“You win. I took the money. Emerald adores me. She’ll give me whatever I ask for. So in the end, I still win.”
Reading that shattered me. I saw past years—Mom’s concern for Grandma’s finances, the borrowed credit cards, the manipulation—with new clarity. She had betrayed both of us.

Confronting the Past

I invited Mom to coffee, handing her a bundle with one of Grandma’s letters and my own. Mine read:
“I have the rest. If you ever try to manipulate me again, the truth will come out.”
She looked stunned. I stood up, heart steady. “You lost my trust. Forever.”
Some truths demand to be unearthed—no matter how painful they are.