I'm sorry, Grandma

I need to get this off my chest. It's been eating me up for years, and I don't know why I never said anything. Grandma, if you're somehow reading this, I am so, so sorry.

Remember that necklace? The one you always wore, the one with the little bluebird? It was your favorite. You always said it reminded you of Grandpa and how he'd whistle like a bird when he was happy. I remember being little, maybe 8 or 9, and being so fascinated by it. The way the blue stone caught the light, the delicate chain. It was beautiful.

Well, one time, I was at your house, and you left it on the side table in the living room. I was playing dress-up with your scarves and hats. I saw it there, and I picked it up. I just wanted to try it on, to see what it looked like on me. But then... I don't know. I put it in my pocket. And I forgot about it. Or, I told myself I forgot about it.

We went home later that day, and it was still in my pocket. I knew I should have given it back. I knew you'd be looking for it. But I was scared. Scared of getting in trouble. So, I hid it. I hid it in my toy chest, under all my dolls.

I kept telling myself I'd give it back the next time I saw you. But I never did. I was too ashamed. Too scared. And then, years went by. You asked me if I’d seen it, and I lied straight to your face. I said no. I felt terrible. You seemed so sad, but I still didn't confess.

Then, you got sick. And then you… you were gone. And the necklace was still in my toy chest, gathering dust. I found it when Mom was cleaning out my old room. It all came flooding back. The guilt, the shame, the regret. I should have told you. I should have given it back. I know it wasn't worth much money, but it meant the world to you. It was a piece of Grandpa. I stole a piece of him from you.

I hope you can forgive me, Grandma. I was just a stupid kid, but that's no excuse. I miss you. I love you. And I'm so sorry.