The undertaker gave me back the coin from my son’s pocket

Dear Delyara, My son always carried an old £1 coin that no longer works in shops. His grandfather gave it to him when he was small and told him it was lucky. He kept it through school exams, his driving test, job interviews, even his wedding. When he died suddenly at thirty-one, I told the funeral director to bury him with whatever was in his pockets. Today, just before the coffin was closed, the undertaker came to me and placed the coin in my hand. He said my daughter-in-law had asked him to remove it because she thought I should have it. I became furious. I said it belonged to my son. She began crying and said, “That’s why I can’t let it go into the ground.” We argued beside his coffin over a worthless coin. Then both of us apologized. I held it against his palm for a moment before taking it back. His hand did not close around it. That was the detail that finally broke me. All his life, he had kept this ridiculous object because somebody he loved told him it might protect him. It did not. Tonight, the coin is in my pocket. I keep touching it and hating it for failing him, then immediately feeling ashamed because a coin never promised me anything. People did. Life did. I did.