The soil was soft.
After a few minutes the blade hit something hard.
A dull metallic sound echoed through the quiet yard.
My heart started racing.
I knelt down and brushed away the dirt until the edge of a small metal box appeared.
It was rusty and heavy.
Old.
I pulled it out of the ground and wiped away the mud.
For a moment I just stared at it.
Then I opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Old ones.
At the top was a picture of a young man in a hospital room holding a newborn baby.
When I looked closer, my breath caught.
Because the baby in his arms…
was me.
Under the photograph was a hospital bracelet with my name on it.
And another letter.
My hands shook as I opened it.
“My darling Tanya,
If you’ve found this box, it means I never had the courage to tell you the truth while I was alive.
I am your father.
When you were born, your mother’s family pushed me out of your life. They believed I would only bring trouble.
Years later I found out where you lived. I moved next door so I could at least watch you grow up.
I saw you become a mother. I saw your children playing in the yard.
I was always proud of you.
