When Teresa’s grandmother passes away, she races across continents, desperate to say goodbye… but she arrives too late.
Wracked with guilt, she visits the grave, only to discover a mysterious package left just for her.
As Teresa navigates grief and love, she learns that some bonds transcend time, offering solace in the most unexpected ways.
When my uncle called that morning, I knew something was wrong before he said a word.
His voice had this sharp, clipped edge, but I could still hear the strain in it.
“Grandma’s gone, Teresa,” he said. “She passed last night.”
For a moment, the world went silent. It was as if my mind refused to process the words.
“The funeral’s tomorrow,” he added.
“If you’re not here, we’ll have to bury her without you.”
“What? Tomorrow?” My voice cracked. “I can’t… there’s no way I can get there that fast!”
“Then don’t bother,” he said curtly.
“She’s gone, Teresa. We won’t wait for you… we can’t.”
I stood frozen, phone in hand, the sharp beep of the call ending pulling me out of my stupor. My uncle Craig, ever the practical and unyielding one, had spoken as if my grandmother’s passing was just another event on a packed calendar.
But she wasn’t just my grandmother.
She was my everything.
She’d raised me after my mom passed, back when I was too young to understand what death meant. Grandma became my world. She stepped into the role of mom, confidante, and teacher with ease.
Life with her was a steady rhythm of love and laughter, her warmth filling the void my mother’s death left behind.
The thought of not being there for her, of not saying goodbye, tore at me.
I booked the first flight out, throwing clothes into a suitcase without even checking if they matched.
I wasn’t even sure if I had suitable funeral clothing, either. Every second felt like a betrayal.
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