15 years ago, I came home to an envelope that was sitting in the mailbox. It had your neat handwriting, so once away I knew it was from you. Puzzled, I tried to figure out why you would send me a card when it wasn’t even close to my Birthday or any other holiday.
Things at that point of my life had been changing. I was 16, becoming less of a loner and making friends that I’d never had before. My nights and weekends were no longer spent in my bedroom reading, but actually out with people doing things that 16 year old were supposed to be doing.
In my new found social’ness, I’d begun to shut out my family. I was 16, I was dating, I was making Best Friends, life was new and exciting and it didn’t occur to me that my family, who was always there, could possibly have missed me. You were one of the most important people in my life, it never occured to me that you may have been hurt over my missing our frequent visits.
I opened up the envelope and found a simple but lovely invitation, inside you had written the words:
You are cordially invited to visit your Grandparents, at your earliest convenience.
I chuckled, thought it was so you to do something like that and honestly never gave that card much more thought or changed my lifestyle to include you more.
Four months later, you died.
I’ve never fully forgiven myself for that.