Grandma asked me to remove her photo from the tombstone exactly one year after her death: when I took the photo out, I screamed in horror 😱😱
Before she passed away, Grandma called me to her when we were alone. Her voice was weak, almost a whisper:
— Remove my photo from the tombstone exactly one year from now. Only then, not before. Do you promise?
I tried to dissuade her from her dark thoughts:
— Grandma, don’t say that, you’ll live yet…
But she only smiled weakly and, closing her eyes, repeated:
— Promise…
I promised. That same night, Grandma left this world.
A year later, I almost forgot about that strange request. But a promise is a promise. I easily unscrewed the fasteners on her grave, and as soon as I took out the photo, I screamed:
— This can’t be…
Continued ⬇️⬇️
Grandma asked to remove her photo from the tombstone exactly one year after her death: when I took out the photo, I screamed in horror
On the back of Grandma’s portrait was hidden an old, faded photo of a young woman – bright, lively, with a radiant smile, in a fitted dress against the backdrop of an old house.
She was painfully similar to me. But in old-fashioned clothes. I took a photo of the tombstone and went to Grandpa for answers. He seemed to be already expecting these questions.
When I showed him the photo, he smiled with some sadness:
Grandma asked to remove her photo from the tombstone exactly one year after her death: when I took out the photo, she screamed in horror
— This is your grandmother. This is how she looked when we first met. A beauty, you could make a movie out of her.
– But why did she hide it behind the current portrait?
Grandfather sighed, fell silent for a moment, then said:
– She… was always very worried about how she looked. Especially in old age. She often looked at herself in the mirror and said: “Why doesn’t anyone put young photos on tombstones? Are we really supposed to be remembered as old forever?”
And then she added: “But if I put a young photo there, they’ll think I’m a vain old woman…”
Grandma asked me to remove her photo from the tombstone exactly a year after her death: when I took the picture out, I screamed in horror
I smiled through my tears. Everything fell into place. She just wanted me to see her at least once – in a year, when the pain subsides – as she really was. Beautiful. Alive. Happy.
