The Chocolate Bar

Hi my dear friend,

On the night between 
Monday and Tuesday, 
my grandma passed 
away.

My dad's mum, 
who lived to the golden age 
of ninety-five.

I don't have a lot of memories 
with her. 

She was always there - 
the Birthdays, the Christmases,
silently enjoying the festivities, 
and laughing when someone 
shared a joke.

But I don’t have 
a lot of memories 
just with her. 

I think I barely knew her.

But ever since I was a child,
whenever she came over, 
she brought me a chocolate bar.
Milk one. With hazelnuts. 

And an envelope 
with a banknote. 

And always a card, 
addressed in her beautifully 
neat and rounded handwriting, 
with the same three 
sentences inside…

Dear Elina, 
Wishing you well. 
Greetings from grandma Anna.

Her love always 
showed in these small, 
predictably thoughtful ways. 
And it suited her perfectly.

She wasn't the person 
I went to for advice. 

Or the person I thought to call 
when something good happened
in my life.

But I could always rely that 
whenever I saw her, there would be 
a chocolate bar tucked inside
her purse for me.

Some people 
love you loudly. 

She loved me quietly. 
Consistently. 
Without making a fuss.

With a milk chocolate bar.
With hazelnuts. 

With love,
Elina Janevica

Imagery / My grandmother Anna