My Mother Wore the Same Old Coat for Decades — After Her Passing, I Discovered Something in the Pockets

My name is Jimmy. I’m thirty-six years old, and for most of my childhood, I was embarrassed by a coat. It was charcoal gray wool, heavy and outdated, with thinning fabric at the elbows and cuffs that had pilled from years of wear. Two mismatched buttons sat awkwardly down the front — one slightly darker than the other — sewn on years apart when the originals had fallen off. The lining had faded, and the pockets sagged. It looked tired. Worn. Like something…
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