David sat with his Grandma, their laughter mingling with the songs of birds. "Butterflies are special," Grandma would say, her eyes sparkling with wisdom. "They remind us that love never really leaves—it just changes." The garden felt like a sanctuary, a place where time seemed to stand still.

David wandered aimlessly, his hands brushing against the leaves they had once tended together. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the warmth he had known. David missed Grandma's gentle laughter, her stories that painted vivid landscapes in his mind. "Where did you go, Grandma?" he whispered to the wind.

David sat on the bench, his eyes following the delicate creature. It circled him gracefully, its wings shimmering in the sunlight, before landing lightly on his hand. "Grandma?" he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips despite the tears that welled in his eyes. The butterfly lingered, its presence a gentle reassurance.

Every time David felt the familiar brush of wings against his skin, he was reminded of Grandma's words. "Love never leaves," he repeated to himself, feeling her presence in the gentle flutter. The garden, once silent and empty, now felt alive with her spirit.

David sat on the bench, watching the butterflies that flitted around him. "I know you're here, Grandma," he whispered, his heart swelling with a bittersweet joy. The garden was a reminder that love, like the butterflies, would always find a way to stay.

David found peace in knowing that Grandma was never truly gone. Her stories lived on in the rustle of leaves, her laughter echoed in the songs of birds, and her love fluttered by on fragile wings. And as long as the butterflies danced in the sunlight, David knew he was never alone.