The last couple of days I typed entries about you from my journals of October 2009. As someone who's loved to write since he was in second grade and to make up and tell stories even before I went to school, I have a lot of journals and folders - both paper and on computer - containing my writings. Many are just loose notes and descriptions of places and items, done more to practice and master the craft of writing. Some are short stories, with quite a few of them in desperate need of a rewrite and others waiting to be finished. You'll also find inthere three or four novel manuscripts, some poetry, a couple of starts to plays, and lots of outlines, especially for essays.
I've asked your grandma to keep all of them for you should anything ever happen to me. The writings probably are of limited monetary value, but they do contain my thoughts going back decades before you were born, so in some small way they will provide a connection to me. She will give them to you when you are old enough; should she pass before them, Uncle Chris will keep them for you.
I do imagine that one day you'll become a writer - not out of my personal vanity - but because you have all of the makings of a good writer: an active, creative imagination; a love of stories; a way with words. Should you come across some striking image in my journals that would fit your story or decide that you know exactly how to finish one of those many stories, feel free to use it as your own. It is my small gift to you, my way of being there for you though the fates have conspired against us.