An Open Letter to My Grandmother During a Difficult Time

When was the last time that I took such a long and joyful--yet painful--trip down memory lane? Last night I went through the two ragged photo albums of my youth and realized that I have less than a dozen photographs of you dear Grandmother. So many times I have flipped through these memory books looking at myself and looking for pictures of when I wasn't overweight or pictures that showed me in some otherwise exalted light. Passing over your pictures without much pause to really reflect on who you were in my life and the important role you claimed. I wept inconsolably at this realization.

Why does it take tragedy to awaken us to what is important in our lives? Today is September 11, 2009 and I can still remember where I was in 2001 when America was under attack. I remember that day with such clarity, yet the memory of other normal days are now sleeping somewhere in the back of my mind. At least difficult times help us to remember what is important.

You are not a blood relative but came into our family by marriage. Or were we brought into your family? Either way, I thank the Universe for bringing us together. Even after your relationship ended with my Pa Pa, you never turned your back on your step-grandchildren. We never used the words "step" or "half" in our family. You loved us as your own. Your guidance in my life has always been gentle, caring and yet you could talk to me in a serious way when I needed it. I will never forget dusting your plants with Pledge furniture cleaner and how you never yelled at me when I made such silly mistakes. Grandmother you had more patience than I felt I deserved at times.

As I talked to my sweetheart "Roger" about you last night, I told him about always using the door from your car-port to enter your house. I walked him through every memory, every smell, sight and every sound. He heard about your clock that chimed every 15 minutes. He heard about your candy jars and match collection. He heard about your African violets. I could hear the sound of your clothes dryer as it tumbled. I was there again after all these years. I had come home to you and I kissed your face at bedtime-with the same smell of Pond's cold cream that I remembered from the past.

I told Roger of my ringing your front door-bell just to hear the sound. He asked me to tell him what it sounded like and I chimed off the ding-dong-doooong-dong. He smiled and said it sounded just as he pictured it would. A perfect grandmotherly bell chime. I will spin for eternity on your kitchen stool-laughing and eating the Brach's candies from the jar. I will never forget Christmas at Grandmother's house and will return in my mind many years after you are gone.

I just remembered that I didn't tell Roger yet about the birds flying into your "always clean" picture windows. You used to sit outside and watch the birds and squirrels eat from your feeders. I loved to sit outside and drink iced tea with you. Your home was a stable place in my unstable life. I know now that you understood this but you never criticized or talked down to me.

I am so sorry that we will not be able to stroll together anymore. In the next few days you will lose your leg to amputation. I cannot imagine how that would feel but I tried to imagine it last evening. I spent all night thinking about how it might make you feel less independent. How you might begin to feel like people are tiring of doing things for you. Grandmother, you have done so much for others. Let others care for you now. When the day finally comes and you are gone from this earth and the sound of your voice is no longer heard in my ear--I will keep our love alive in my heart eternally.

"I love you the most" --Your loving granddaughter