It wasn't meant to be anything important, just a short note she wrote instead of waking me up before she went to work. She had scribbled on the back of a used envelope, reminding me to pick up some eggs at some point in my errands, please.
We'd written notes like that to each other hundreds of times, none of them important outside of the messages, which were all just boring minutiae of our quiet little lives.
But this one was important, for the last bit, where she said 'love you'.
Last time she told me that, before the crash.