Grieving Mom Finds Son’s Farewell Note 3 Years After His Death and Hurries to Group Home

For three long years, Kimberly Richardson carried the weight of unanswered questions following the death of her 28-year-old son, Mark, who passed away in a group home for individuals with special needs. But in a twist of fate both heartbreaking and healing, Kimberly recently discovered a letter written by Mark—a farewell note—carefully tucked away in a box of his belongings that had gone untouched since his passing.

“I never expected to find something like that,” Kimberly said, holding back tears. “It felt like Mark was reaching out to me from the other side, letting me know he was at peace.”
Mark had struggled with developmental and mental health challenges for much of his life. After years of home care, Kimberly made the difficult decision to place him in a group home where he could receive 24-hour specialized support. Though she visited regularly, she always carried guilt about the decision. His death in 2021, reportedly from natural causes, left her devastated—and with unresolved feelings of loss and self-doubt.
It was while sorting through some of Mark’s old things last month, preparing to donate his clothes, that she stumbled upon the folded note in a notebook buried beneath comic books and drawings.
“Mom,” the note began, “if you’re reading this, I’m probably not around anymore. But I want you to know I’m okay. I don’t want you to feel sad. You did everything for me. You gave me love, music, toys, and time. The group home helped me feel normal—I made friends. I want you to smile when you think of me.”
The note was dated just a few months before his death.
“I was shocked, and then I broke down,” Kimberly said. “It was his way of saying goodbye. It gave me something I didn’t know I needed.”
The next morning, she drove to the group home for the first time in years. Staff members remembered Mark fondly and welcomed Kimberly with open arms. She sat in the common area, speaking with residents and caregivers, flipping through old activity logs and photos of Mark playing games, drawing, and smiling.
“He was a light in our home,” said Janice Keller, a staff member who had worked closely with Mark. “He had a quiet way of making people feel safe.”
The visit was deeply emotional. Kimberly brought a copy of the note and read it aloud to the staff and a few residents who had been close to Mark.
“There wasn’t a dry eye in the room,” Janice said. “It was like we all got a piece of closure we didn’t know we needed.”
Kimberly is now working on setting up a small scholarship fund in Mark’s name to help other families cover the costs of group home placements. She also hopes to raise awareness about mental health, caregiving, and the enduring bonds between parents and children with special needs.
“I wish I had found the note sooner,” she said, “but maybe I wasn’t ready until now. Mark waited until I could hear him.”
This unexpected discovery, years after a loss, turned sorrow into solace—reminding us all that love can transcend even the deepest silence.