Grandma, I Miss You

At last, I opened the tin box my grandmother left me.

Inside were every letter, every postcard, and every sticky note I had written to her over the years.

Some of them I had forgotten myself, but she had arranged them all neatly in chronological order, with clear tape carefully applied to every worn edge, as if she were preserving the most precious treasures in the world.

I crouched on the floor of the old house, turning through the yellowed pages. Inside that rust-spotted tin box, I came to know again the person who had loved me with all her heart.

Grandma, I miss you so much.