I'm getting this letter in just before midnight. Late again, just like last time. Remember, I'm sure you do, how we wrote our special letters to each other on 7/7/77 and again on 8/8/88. You told me you didn't think you'd be around for 9/9/99 and you were sadly correct. But watching the Olympics tonight I remembered you and our date.
If heaven is like I hope it is you've had the pleasure of seeing my boys grow. You died when Seth was two...I wish...how I'd love to see him walk in your back door and bend over to give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. You would love him. He would make your heart swell, his deep brown eyes and loving way. He would have cherished you, like we all did. When Luke was born I had the overwhelming feeling that you would have thought he was someone special. I think you and Luke would have had fun together. I think your eyes would have sparkled together and you would have shared delightful grins. He's lighthearted and funloving like you. He would have delighted in a great grandmother like you. The first time Pop Pop held him, the first grandchild born after you died, a little bird sat on the porch rail right outside the window and I thought of you and your mockingbirds on your back porch. It made me wonder if you could enjoy the moment with us. And Sean. Well, he'd tell you so many stories...he would have loved you. He would have given you so many hugs and kisses.
I wish I could have shared my kids with you. And I know how much you loved Stan and he loved you. Well, everybody loved you, Gram. You were just that kind of person. You just couldn't not love you. Boy, I miss you. I once said that I didn't miss you so terribly because you were still such a big part of me, it's like you never left. But when I think about my boys and how much I would have loved bringing them to see you...I wish they could have had the pleasure to have you in their lives too. I hope I can be that to someone someday too, but it came so naturally to you it never even would have been a goal of yours...it was just you.
I love you Gram. In some ways, you were love to me. But most of all, you taught me about Jesus. I am amazed by you, a simple lovely woman who raised her kids, supported her husband (he still brags about how you'd have an ironed shirt and breakfast waiting for him every morning AND that you'd pull his car out of the garage and get it heated up for his ride to work) and cooked up all the millions of vegetables Pop Pop grew for all of us (including peeling countless pieces of fruit for us grandchildren to snack on all day as we flew through your kitchen) and touched all of us so very deeply just being you.
Happy 8/8/08. I hope you're watching. I carry you with me. I love you so much.