My grandmother’s last request was so gentle that it blended into the background of everyday conversations. When I revisited her message days later and finally sent the small amount she needed, I didn’t imagine it would be the last time I could respond to her directly. After we learned she had passed away that night, visiting her home felt both heartbreaking and strangely peaceful. The familiar rooms carried her warmth, even in her absence.
On the dining table, a neatly folded receipt revealed that she hadn’t spent the money on herself. Instead, she bought small gifts for the people she cared about, each one chosen with quiet thoughtfulness. Among them was a tiny heart-shaped keychain with my name attached. Holding it, I realized how her love had always been expressed — softly, consistently, without expecting anything in return. Continues…
