October 5th 2014
Dear Gramma, (you taught me to spell it that way)
Today was the day you entered this world all those years ago, yet, today I am not excited about your birth, rather I am saddened by your death. In May 2003 you were born into the arms of God, this Father in Heaven who we share, you left this world and the pain it caused you in exchange for eternal love. I feel your presence when you are with me. I know you hold my babies in your arms the way you did Lila.
I am so much like you. I struggle to sleep at night, my tea is almost always cold and a nap is almost always mandatory.
Yet, you were strong.
Stronger than I ever was or will be.
You worked your hands to the bone inside the house and out in the yard. You taught me more than my own mother ever did.
You never talked much about the babies you lost. Unfortunately, I understand that torn pain. I imagine you know them now, full grown men.
I often wonder if your soul belongs to Grandpa Gordon or Grandpa John. Who are you with up there? Perhaps Heaven is one big communal family. You’ve forgiven your Mother for leaving you the way she did and I am sure she held your children as you do mine.
I wish you were here though. I still forget you’re not. Especially when I think about all that my kids are missing out on because you aren’t here. At the same time I know that you gave me all the tools I need to prepare them for life.
Why is it so hard? As a mom do you ever feel like you haven’t failed? How do you know they are on the right path –or the wrong one?
How do I know if I am living the life God created for me?
I always imagined that Heaven would be like your gardens, minus the work!
I regret not brushing your hair that day you were here and you asked. I didn’t know you were sick – or I wasn’t willing to admit it, and I thought it weird and I deprived you the comfort touch of something so simple. I am sorry for not listening to you, sorry for not being there for you. Sorry that despite you raising me one way that I went another and I am sorry for all the times in life and death that I have made you worry.