I grew up seeing handwritten notes as the best expression of love. My mom often【C1】______small, square papers on the bed for me to find. Sometimes it was just a smiley【C2】______, other times she simply wrote the words "love you"【C3】______ordinary ballpoint pen, but it was more than enough. Starting in elementary school, my mom【C4】______me to write notes to my grandma who lived a few hours away. Grandma【C5】______wrote back. The excitement I felt when I looked in the【C6】______and saw a letter in my grandma's shaky letters never【C7】______. By studying her handwriting, I could almost【C8】______how she' d been feeling that day. Those notes are now treasures. The words, "You make me【C9】______," from my dad when I got my first prize and birthday notes from friends are all lifelines I can't bear to【C10】______. However, my greatest lifelines came from my daughter, Avery. One day I put a yellow note on her【C11】______not realizing there was a blank one【C12】______to it. When I cleaned out her lunch box that night, the number of my notes had【C13】______. I cried when I saw she'd written the same thing as me. "I love you. Avery." I reached up and stuck my daughter's【C14】______on the cabinet where the sandwich bread was stored as a source of daily【C15】______. Then later another in my clothes closet where I got【C16】______, and another on the bathroom mirror where I brushed my【C17】______. "I love you. I will love you for my whole life." Until today my daughter still【C18】______posts lifelines to me. Now they are not so much for encouragement【C19】______they are reminders—reminders that time is flying. Because the untraditional spelling has become【C20】______, letters are no longer gigantic(巨大的), but rather small and dainty(优美的). But the love, the love is still there.