In my grandmother’s delicate, familiar handwriting were the words: “For my sweet girl, may this keep you warm when I no longer can. Always remember how deeply you are loved.” Tears filled my eyes.

My daughter stood silently beside me, her hand in mine, as I felt the weight of all those lost years press against my heart.

Suddenly, I understood—the cardigan wasn’t just a gift. It was a hug from my grandmother that had been waiting for me all this time, a silent reminder of her endless love.