Finally…

"Mommy, there's a package for you!"

Peeking out from behind the kitchen doorway, a much older [Name] watched as her young son burst through the front door with a small brown box in hand. The little kid bounced his way over to his mother, careful not to bump the package against anything lest he damage anything inside of it. Safely handing it over to his mother, the kid rocked back and forth on his heels as he grinned up at his mother.

"Can we open it? Huh, can we?" He asked, excited to see what [Name] had got in the mail.

"Sure thing, kiddo," [Name] responded with a smile, ruffling her child's hair.

Bringing both her son and the package into the kitchen, [Name] took out a sharp letter opener and carefully cut the tape holding the box closed. Once she could easily lift the tabs away from the rest of the box, she looked inside. There, in the tight fitted space of the small brown box, was a familiar journal she hadn't thought about in a rather long time. Smiling, she pulled the book out of its confinement, showing her son the colored and taped up edges of the pages.

"What's that?" He asked, examining the book closely. It didn't look like anything his mother would read.

"This is a journal my uncle bought for me when I was in high school," [Name] responded, her fingers ghosting along the outside cover. Fond memories of the past flashed through her mind as she looked at it. "My mom must have sent it over after finding it somewhere in our attic."

"Grandma sent this? Cool!" Picking up the book, [Name]'s son flipped it around and began reading some of the visible words. Every so often he'd stumble over one and [Name] would help him sound it out so he could read it better. "Can you tell me about all the pages?" He asked, flipping through it after [Name] had removed the tape from the outside.

"Sure," [Name] said, sitting next to her son at the table as she took the book from him.

Flipping through each and every single one of the pages, [Name] told the stories that each page had to offer. She recounted many memories with her friends and the countless adventures they'd all been in. She even told him of all the times she'd gotten in trouble for doing something her book told her to do. As she told the stories, her son laughed, sharing with her the mirth that her memories brought.

"Oh, I like this page a lot," [Name] commented when they'd reached one of her favorite prompts.

"Why's that, mommy?"

"This one me and daddy did together," she explained, tracing the page with the tips of her fingers. "This was way back before we even started dating."

"What's daddy's favorite page?"

Suddenly, the sound of a car entering the garage resounded through the room. Smiling, [Name] once again ruffled her child's hair.

"You're just going to have to ask him yourself, now aren't you."

…Tape this journal closed and mail it to yourself. End.