FamilyTies

  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 learne...