I’ve tidied the rest away now. She’ll be getting too old for the toys I used to keep for their visits. But these – I couldn’t bring myself to part with.
Just rubbish really. But I remember the day we collected these shells at the beach. She ran back and forth to the water’s edge, so excited to show me each new treasure. Back home, she cut up and folded these scraps. A letter on each one, spelling out GRANDMA for me.
I understood, when they moved away. My son, his career! He keeps saying they’ll visit… but they never do.
Written for Rochell Wisoff-Fields #FridayFictioneers Challenge – check out the details here