This Christmas card is the last one my papa ever wrote to me, and it’s become one of the most meaningful things I own. The handwriting, the little phrases he always used, even the way he signed his name-it all feels like a small piece of him frozen in time. Every time I read it, I can hear his voice behind the words, warm and familiar, like he’s still speaking directly to me.

Having it now feels both comforting and heartbreaking. It’s a reminder of his love, his personality, and the way he always made me feel seen. Even though it’s just a simple card, it carries a weight far bigger than paper. I keep it safe, not just a memory of him, but as something I can return to whenever I need to feel close to him again.