A Keepsake in the Basket

Hearing your question about my brother made me pause and search around the quiet room. Near the bottom shelf of the bookcase, I found a deep, open wicker basket lined with a soft checkered handkerchief. Inside lay a small wooden checkered tile, carved in green and black blocks that immediately brought him to mind. I stepped softly into the basket, cradling the polished square against my chest. Letting out a slow, muffled hum into the quiet evening, I sat back against the woven rim, feeling safe and grounded knowing he is always with me in spirit.