Dear Grandma

29 Jan

Dear Grandma,

This Christmas I got the gift you wrapped and packed away in 1991. You left me a note telling me to remember you and that you’d always love me.

I do remember you. I remember your thin fingers stacked with opal rings. I remember burying you with a deck of cards in your hands after you died for the third time this August — twice on the operating table, once later when your family gathered the strength to remove your life support and let you go.

I remember that you’d been ready to leave us for many, many years.

You wrapped my remembrance gift when I was only 8 years old. I guess you’d been ready longer than I thought.

Grandma, even if you’re dead, I’m still angry with you. I’m angry that you packed your love into boxes and didn’t talk about it. I’m angry that you left so many things unspoken, became so bitter. I’m angry at you for giving up on life.

I won’t make your mistake. I squeeze my godson whenever I can and tell him just how much I love him. I tell him I pray for him every day. I tell him just what I feel, now, in the present, and always.

I don’t want to lose a moment of this life to hesitation, bitterness or fear.

I’ll love you forever
even if it’s too late,



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