Precious Memories

Grandma and I use to run across the shore. Building sandcastles, collecting seashells wedged in the deep sand. Many times we watch the waves hit the shore, other times we leave our marks on the slushy sand. Grandma usually covers me in the sand and keeps me toasty. But now those days are over, I wonder where you are. We always took the time writing letters to each other, but I never heard from you ever since. Rumors whispered and passed on from village to village, saying that my grandma was gone. She is probably in a good place now, but I never had a chance to say goodbye.