I spent months stitching a blanket for my granddaughter, Leilani. Every scrap of yarn held a memory—birthdays, winters, lullabies. At her graduation party, her other grandma arrived with a shiny SUV. Leilani’s gift bag from me went unopened. The next morning, I saw my blanket in the trash—torn, yarn unraveling. My hands shook on the wheel all the way home....