I lost my grandfather last fall. This is the first time he hasn’t been there for my birthday. Every year he gave me a card and a $20 bill, and every year I thanked him and told him that I appreciated it, no matter how small. He was always concerned that it was too little, blame it on years of dealing with my cousins. This year, there was no card and the loss was palpable.
I’m not big on faith or miracles, but on Monday my mom told me she found a stack of greeting cards and letters. Somehow, a sheet protector filled with envelopes found its way into one of her storage boxes. I have no idea how it might have ended up in that box. I don’t even remember packing them up, but somehow one of my grandfather’s cards ended up in that box and inside was a $20 bill.