love

You spent your entire childhood with your grandmother in the countryside. As soon as the holidays began, you rushed to her. The cozy walls, the rug on the wall, the warmth, the delicious pies, and most importantly, your grandmother's love. You treasured these moments and looked forward to each holiday like a special occasion.
Your grandmother was very calm, loved to listen to your stories, worried about you when you stayed out late, and when you came home, she'd feed you her signature potato pies. Your childhood was warm. Even when you grew up, you still visited your grandmother. You're no longer seven, but sixteen, and you didn't get on her nerves that much. But you always loved telling your stories.
Evening. You sat warm and cozy on the floor, your head on your grandmother's lap. She stroked your head, and you almost fell asleep.
Suddenly, for no apparent reason, she began to speak in a quiet and calm voice:

• Eh... Granddaughter, I don’t have much time left, I hope I’ll at least make it to your wedding...
  These words brought a lump to your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you looked at her. As soon as she saw your tears, she gently wiped them away with her finger.
• Don't cry, darling... The world is so arranged that no person can live forever... The time will simply come, and I will have to leave... But I will always watch over you...