On the day of Grandma’s funeral, emotions ran high — so high that my family accidentally left me behind at the cemetery.
Sitting alone among the flowers and fading footsteps, I found peace in the silence. It felt like Grandma was still there, comforting me one last time. I thought about her stories, her hugs, and how much she meant to me.
Later, when they came back for me, I learned something unexpected: Grandma had left her house to me in her will. Out of everyone, she chose me.
That house isn’t just a home. It’s where she baked her apple pie, told bedtime stories, and made the ordinary feel magical. Walking through it now, I feel her everywhere.
She may be gone, but in that quiet house filled with memories, her love lives on.
