My grandpa was in the army. I always heard the stories about how he wrote my grandma a letter every chance he got when he was overseas and how he always made sure the letter was attached to flowers.
A few months before he has admitted into the hospital my grandparents re-read all the letters together in private. A week before he passed he told me to take the box, which my grandma knew that he was giving me the letters. But he told me I wasn’t allowed to open the box until he passed.
The day finally came, I got to say my final goodbye and cried the whole way home from the hospital. I lost it when I found out that he passed.
Around 2 am my SO came in with the box and told me when I was ready to open it, he would sit with me. We spent the whole night reading letters, the ones where he said how much he missed my grandmother, the ones that showed how much he loved her.
We get to the bottom of the box, to find a paper with my name on it.
”Dear XXXXX, My darling granddaughter it seems we have said our goodbyes. You have become and amazing woman and mother. Your love for me and your grandmother has shown me that I can trust you with the special mission. I have set up a bank account for you at XXXX. The manager knows you will be coming in, and he will help you. There is money in the account. I want you to use that money to buy your grandmother flowers at random times during the year. The flower shop knows what flowers to send her. Also, in the bank is safe. Inside the safe are at least 100 different letters. Every time you send her flowers, please attach a letter. Inside the safe is an old notebook of mine, if you run out of letters, please write new ones but use that paper. Never tell her that you are the one sending these things to her. When her time comes, please place one flower and letter on top of her casket. Granddaughter, I will always be with you. Love forever.”
It’s been almost 3 years. She still gets her flowers and letters. She has no idea how they are coming to her. In fact, no one but my SO knows that I am doing this. Every time I go to the flower shop, I cry, but they are happy tears.
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