Yet I had never received anything more beautiful.
Lily climbed onto my lap.
“Grandma, is Grandpa with you now?”
I looked at the bear and remembered Robert’s laughter, his warm hands, and all those Sunday afternoons when the children ran into his arms.
“Grandpa loved us very much, sweetheart. And we can always carry that love with us.”
That night, for the first time in eight
months, I slept peacefully.
The little blue bear rested on my bedside table.
The next morning, Jake asked, “Grandma, does that mean you won’t cry anymore?”
I smiled.
“I’ll still cry sometimes, sweetheart. I’ll always miss Grandpa. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be happy. And today, you’ve made me feel very loved.”
He hugged me tightly.
Sometimes we fear the secrets our loved ones keep because we imagine something terrible behind them. But sometimes, behind a closed door, there’s simply a little heart trying to heal someone else’s pain.
