Sinko, I love you.

Exert from Buying Lenin by Miroslav Penkov
The Best American Short Stories (2008)

The other day, I got a letter in the mail. I did not open it for a very long time. I had no strength. I cried for two days and then finally made myself take out the letter.

"Dear Grandson," it said. "I am dead now. I instructed Comrade Penkov to send this in the mail the day my heart would stop beating. He is a good man. He would pay for the shipping expenses.

"Grandson, we've had a hard life, you and I. We grew old, not with years, but with deaths. You are now one death older. Carry this baggage with dignity, and don't let it break your back. Always remember that you've suffered a lot more than many, but that others have suffered even greater pains. Be thankful for what you have. For what you've seen and for what you've been spared from seeing.

"They are easy prey, the crawfish," Grandpa went on. "You catch one, but the others don't run away. The other don't even know you are there until you pick them up, and even then they still have no idea. All this teaches us a lesson about human nature, Grandson, a lesson you should remember: Not every stick that falls in your pincers is worth pinching. Sometimes pinching the wrong stick may even take you to your end. So think carefull, my dear one, which stick to pinch and which to miss. Fight only the fights that are worthy; let all others pass you. And even when the stick hits hard, learn not to pinch it back.

"My dear one, forgive me."

And at the end Grandpa had written just four words.

"Sinko, I love you."