Two days before she passed, my 68-year-old grandma sent a message in our family group chat:
“Does anyone have a little money to spare? I’d like to buy something important.”

Most ignored it. Everyone was busy. That night, I couldn’t shake the guilt, so I sent her some money. She replied with a heart emoji and, “Thank you, sweetheart.”

The next morning, she was gone — peacefully in her sleep.

At her house, I froze. On the kitchen table sat dozens of small gift boxes, each tied with golden ribbon and labeled with our names. Inside were letters, photos, and keepsakes — tiny pieces of her love.

That’s when I realized what she’d truly bought: her final goodbyes.