Two days before she passed, my 68-year-old grandmother sent a short message to our family group chat – a message most of us barely acknowledged.“Does anyone have a bit of money to spare? I want to buy something important,” she wrote. With everyone caught up in work, chores, and daily busyness, her request slipped through the cracks. But something about it lingered in my mind, a faint pull I couldn’t ignore. So I transferred her a little money without asking any questions. She responded with a heart emoji and a gentle, “Thank you, dear.”
That very night, she left this world quietly, leaving a mystery none of us saw coming. The following morning, when I stepped into her modest kitchen to begin sorting her belongings, I stopped in my tracks. The table was filled with dozens of tiny gift boxes – each one tied with care, labeled with precision, and organized exactly the way she always did things.