Georgia was at the beach with her grandkids when they suddenly pointed toward a nearby café. Her heart skipped a beat as they shouted the words that would shatter her world. The couple in the café looked exactly like their parents who had died two years ago. Grief changes you in ways you never expect. Some days, it’s a dull ache in your chest. Other days, it blindsides you like a sucker punch to the heart. That summer morning in my kitchen, staring at an anonymous letter, I felt something entirely different. I think it was hope mixed with a little bit of terror.
My hands trembled as I read those five words again, “They’re not really gone.” The crisp white paper felt like it was burning my fingers. I thought I’d been managing my grief, trying to create a stable life for my grandkids, Andy and Peter, after losing my daughter, Monica, and her husband, Stephen. But this note made me realize how wrong I was. They got into an accident two years ago. I still remember how Andy and Peter kept asking me where their parents were and when they’d return.
It took me so many months to make them understand their mom and dad would never return. It broke my heart as I told them they’d have to manage things on their own now, and that I’d be there for them whenever they needed their parents. After all the hard work I’d put in, I received this anonymous letter that claimed Monica and Stephan were still alive They’re… not really gone?” I whispered to myself, sinking into my kitchen chair. “What kind of sick game is this?”
I had crumpled the paper and was about to throw it away when my phone buzzed. It was my credit card company, alerting me to a charge on Monica’s old card. The one I’d kept active just to hold onto a piece of her. “How is that even possible?” I whispered. “I’ve had this card for two years. How can someone use it when it’s been sitting in the drawer?”
“Hi. I, uh, wanted to verify this recent transaction on my daughter’s card,” I said. “Of course. May I have the first six and last four digits of the card number and your relationship to the account holder?” Billy asked. I gave him the details, explaining, “I’m her mother. She… passed away two years ago, and I’ve been managing her remaining accounts.”