A Letter To: Jean Louise


 Dear Gramma,



On my birthday this year I’ll be 37. That’s the same age Mom was when we lost you. It’s been a whole 21 years since I last saw you. A fact that feels simultaneously so very correct and wrong. Wasn’t it just last week that I visited, relaxed on your porch, drank coffee with you, and told you about the last book I read? Or was that in my dreams? How is your presence so near and far, so familiar and alien, your input long-gone and still currently offered steadily, quietly and lovingly?


I’m a Mom now, too. Your great grandkids are amazing people to observe. They’re creative, lively and funny. I think of you often when I play Raffi for them, bake muffins with them, and tell people the funny things they say. Oh, how you’d love them and revel in their bright energy! 


To my everlasting shame, the only plant I’ve managed to not kill is a very hardy little rosemary. I’m beginning to realize that even under your careful instruction, I’m not sure I would have learned to keep more than that little evergreen bush alive. But I wish I'd taken the time to learn that with you.


At some point, I’m going to disappoint you with a tattoo in your memory. I can feel your chagrin at the shade of my hair - a near-fluorescent blue. Though I doubt you’d be terribly surprised with my choice of having unconventional hair. I’ve always been a little unconventional…wonder where I get that…


There are times I swear I can feel you close to me, encouraging me to be my truly true self. When I read silly poetry to my kids, when I indulge in whimsy, when I drink a steaming cup of Sleepytime tea…


I think of you everyday. Last time I went home I went to visit you and Poppa where you sleep now. We had a little coffee together and I really let it sink in how deeply I miss you. As I left Hillcrest Cemetery, I started crying. I wept as I drove through town, drove past your house, made my way around the county, wound down the same country roads I fly down in my sleep. I whispered how much I miss you, my heart broke all over again as I felt you both near me and so far away. It was the most healing thing I could have done. 


I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always. As long as I’m living, my Gramma you’ll be.

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