About a month ago, I happened to open the box that my grandad had given me.
One evening I sat on my bed recollecting happy moments when Grandpa was still alive. Melancholy and nostalgia gripped me like a phantom. Opening the box, my fingers touched a cold, platinum wristwatch that had not lost its glint, sitting in the box, solitary as an oyster.
Grandpa’s words rang in my head,“ Mat, I am giving you my watch.”
Grandpa had said these words emotionally as he spent the last two weeks of his life, suffering in a hospital bed. Grandpa and I had a special bond and all my siblings poked fun at me for being his favourite. His last gesture before I left the hospital was to hand me the wooden box that exuded a strong sandalwood like scent.
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