My Grandma Kept the Basement Door Locked for 40 Years, and What I Found After She Was Gone Changed Everything I Thought I Knew

After my grandmother Evelyn died, I assumed the hardest part would be sorting through her house. Not the big tasks, like calling the utility companies or meeting with the attorney, but the quiet ones. Folding the last stack of linens. Packing up her favorite mug. Standing in the kitchen where she used to hum while she baked, realizing the song was gone because she was gone.

I was wrong.

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