I recently was given a box of things from my grandmother's house. My mom's relatives I don't talk too much but once in a while they throw me a bone. My dad's side of the family I don't talk to at all now a days.
They sent me a box of some knickknacks and mostly junk. A hair brush. A dried flower. A ribbon. A dance card. A small children's book. A broken junk necklace. And some other stuff. At the bottom there was a card, yellowed can crackled with age. I opened it carefully, blowing dust from its face that seemed to take some of its color along with it.
On the front it said "You have the time of your life" and inside "The joys of the season be with you."
Under that, in neatly printed block lettering was the following message: My Dearest Cora,
You have given me the lens through which to view a world of colour, of nuances of shades of light and interplay of dark. I had my eyes closed my entire life and only feel now that I am seeing the world in its glory. Bright, life, and wonderful. Only you have lifted the clouds that covered them before.
Cora, will you meet me beside the giant tree at midnight on New Year's Eve? I have something of the utmost importance to ask you.
Please say yes.
With Love and Respect,
My grandfather proposed to my grandmother that night. They were married later that summer and had my mother a year later, and she too was born on New Year's Day.
Who knows what gift this card came with, if any. The card meant so much more than the gift, didn't it?