Dear Gram

Dear Gram,

Five years ago you left us.

Your watch is still on the dresser where you left it as is the makeup in the bathroom vanity. Your unfinished article from Time about Cuba is still open to the same page.

I don’t really feel like reflecting on the last five years—although I do not understand how it has been five years.

I am sitting in your chair right now. I am leaving the House in Henry. Who knows? I may even become an Illinois resident. I can’t see what my future holds. At all.

I didn’t go to the Graveyard today, because it wasn’t a very nice day and you are here, in your chair, more so than in the ground.

I am trying to take care of G-Pa. I don’t clean or cook as well as you did at all! Thank God for Aunt Faerie.

I am officially moving in. I have changed your sewing room into “My Room” and plan on bringing some furniture back from the East.

I miss you every day. “This too shall pass,” you told me. The last thing I remember your saying. In reference to my crumbling marriage.

If you were still alive, I wouldn’t be here taking care of G-Pa. If I had bucked up and gone back to teaching and not had a full on nervous breakdown, I would not be here. If I were not on disability, I would not be here.

Father, Son, and Holy Ghost and Mother Mary—please have A Master Plan.

Your home is my Home now. G-Pa has been very generous with my Barbie allotment and my “Sprawl.”

What advice would you give me? What comforting words?

I lost a Grandmother (no suitable adjectives), but gained an Angel in Heaven.

Apparently, all those people in Heaven are Saints. But, most people spend time in Purgatory after they die. You are in Heaven. This I know. With Pop.

I wanted it to be an early spring—and the weather is warmish, but no daffodils or flowers.

Your life was not easy—you had much sorrow and struggle. But, I think you had a lot of good too. I want that, too. Did you ever feel the way I do? 

I know why, perhaps, you didn’t go to Church after this past Mass I attended. Being with you and praying in the Graveyard in more sacred than any Mass.

I’m sorry for all the things I have done to let you down and I’m sorry for all the times I’ve let G-Pa down.

I’m so scared about This Next Step. But, you’re with me. Here in My Home.

Huh, I never called Henry, My Home, it was My House.

This house, where you lived for fifty years plus, is My Home.

Help me. Give me strength. Help Guide me.

I was gonna save the Amish Pumpkin Cinnamon Roll Aunt Faerie bought me yesterday—but maybe I will eat that in your honor tonight.

If I can survive the loss of you, Pop, my marriage—I can survive leaving The House…I hope.

I can still remember how to smelled and your warmth as I kissed you goodnight.

“Goodnight, Grammy. I love you. It’s good to be here.”

Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless

In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel, Jed.

Grateful For:

Health

Angel

E-cigarettes

My Home

Faith