She was always guarded. Or… at the least she was guarding something. Leslie could never really tell what it was but the tattered string around her grandmother’s neck always reminded her that something was there. Anytime she would ask what was on the mysterious string her grandmother would simply hold up her finger to her pierced lips and whisper, “shhh.” It was like she was hiding a secret. A secret she couldn’t share. The more she hid it the more Leslie wanted to see it, touch it, examine it – it seemed magical.
As the years passed on, her grandmother never told her what was on the tattered string. Eventually the curiosity had worn itself away, until it finally had escaped from Leslie’s mind all together.
Soon after her grandmother had passed on, Leslie’s mother gave her a big cardboard box filled with trinkets and old books that her grandmother wanted her to have. Even though it had been years since she had given any hint of a thought about that mysterious necklace. She immediately grabbed the box from her mother’s hands, dropped to the ground and started ripping through it as quickly as she could. The musky smell that rose from the box made her smile. It was her grandmother’s scent left behind. She sighed; she was going to miss her.
After pulling out all the old costume jewelry, her Danielle Steele book collection, and an old wooden box there was a small ivory envelope sitting at the bottom. She ran her finger across her grandmother’s raised initials and then turned it over.“For my Leslie” was written in black ink. Her grandma always had the most perfect handwriting.
She didn’t even need to see inside, she knew what it was.
As she opened the envelope she pulled out that tattered old string and at the end was a tiny, antique bronze – key.
“A key?” she thought confused. A key to what?
Just as she started to get upset she pulled out a note. It read:
Since you have always been the only person in my life to pay such close attention to this, I had always known I was going to leave it for you. Oh I wish I could be there with you, and I hope you find it as special and enchanting as I always did. You see it is the key to my heart, in a sense.
Your grandfather was an amazing poet and writer. He always spoke from the heart. The key unlocks the wooden box I gave you, and that box holds every love letter and poem he had ever written me. They are so intimate I always felt it important to keep them locked away. After all, they were his own, personal thoughts. I hope you enjoy reading them. You will look at him in an entirely different light. I loved him so much. Always keep the key close to your heart.
Love you always,