In Remembrance
Hi, Mom,
Every day, there’s another piece of news that shows the latest chaos, anger and hatred in the world, but today, all I can think of is your love and caring. Everything that you shared not only with me as your daughter, Dad as your husband and my brother as your son, but with every life you touched and every life you continue to touch through the memories all of us share.
With another year gone by, life just continues to move on. Dad continues to be Dad, causing exasperation as much as humor with every conversation. You’d be happy that he’s made good progress (finally!) remembering to take his cell phone with him . . . though since that’s his only phone that probably helps, too. I still chuckle when I think about that sign you put on the back door years ago when you first got him the phone to help him remember to take it with him when he left the house in the morning.
I haven’t made it back to Minnesota for a visit for a few years now, something I’m working towards correcting, albeit slowly. Your granddaughters are growing up so fast that I feel like I can barely keep up. I don’t get to see many pictures of them, but I love the ones that I do, just as I know you would. As grandma, you would spoil them in your own way, far different than Dad and his Tootsie Rolls, and I hope I’m doing a good job representing you with the doll clothes and other bits of sewing, pieces that I have no doubt you would have made for them. Quilting has become my form of sewing, though I still have the memories of you being at the sewing machine to make the doll clothes for my toys as well as various Halloween and dance costumes.
I’ve lived out here for a few years and finally went to the state fair when it was held a few weeks ago. As I wandered, I remembered how much you enjoyed going to the Minnesota state fair and looked forward to enjoying the food just as much as the wandering and shopping. I didn’t find any Christmas ornaments – that must be a Minnesota thing – or I would have found this year’s ornaments for Dad to give his granddaughters while there. I don’t know that the girls understand the tradition that is happening with it, but I refuse to let it go away, because I know you would be keeping it going and I’m determined to keep it going in your place. Don’t worry – I know where else to look and I’ll find them, like I usually do. I shudder to think of what the girls would end up with if he was left to shopping for them – I think he’d find a way to use metal hangars to turn his tools into ornaments if it came to it and really, that’s just not okay.
Earlier this year, a longtime, close friend gave me a picture she had found among her photos some years back and told me she had set it aside specifically to give to me when I finally had my own place to call home. It was a picture of you, Dad and I taken around the time of my college graduation. I don’t remember the name of the restaurant we were at, but I do remember your smile and enjoyment, especially of that big (and fresh!) lobster that was your dinner.
I’m a bit far for the walleye that you loved to be on a local menu, but there’s definitely seafood places around me and I plan on enjoying a good dinner from one this long holiday weekend. Not sure if I’ll find a place with good shrimp or if I’ll go for the standard fish and chips, but whatever I decide, I’ll enjoy it with my memories of you.
I miss you and I love you!
Link to last year’s letter: https://marauderswolf.livejournal.com/148688.html
Every day, there’s another piece of news that shows the latest chaos, anger and hatred in the world, but today, all I can think of is your love and caring. Everything that you shared not only with me as your daughter, Dad as your husband and my brother as your son, but with every life you touched and every life you continue to touch through the memories all of us share.
With another year gone by, life just continues to move on. Dad continues to be Dad, causing exasperation as much as humor with every conversation. You’d be happy that he’s made good progress (finally!) remembering to take his cell phone with him . . . though since that’s his only phone that probably helps, too. I still chuckle when I think about that sign you put on the back door years ago when you first got him the phone to help him remember to take it with him when he left the house in the morning.
I haven’t made it back to Minnesota for a visit for a few years now, something I’m working towards correcting, albeit slowly. Your granddaughters are growing up so fast that I feel like I can barely keep up. I don’t get to see many pictures of them, but I love the ones that I do, just as I know you would. As grandma, you would spoil them in your own way, far different than Dad and his Tootsie Rolls, and I hope I’m doing a good job representing you with the doll clothes and other bits of sewing, pieces that I have no doubt you would have made for them. Quilting has become my form of sewing, though I still have the memories of you being at the sewing machine to make the doll clothes for my toys as well as various Halloween and dance costumes.
I’ve lived out here for a few years and finally went to the state fair when it was held a few weeks ago. As I wandered, I remembered how much you enjoyed going to the Minnesota state fair and looked forward to enjoying the food just as much as the wandering and shopping. I didn’t find any Christmas ornaments – that must be a Minnesota thing – or I would have found this year’s ornaments for Dad to give his granddaughters while there. I don’t know that the girls understand the tradition that is happening with it, but I refuse to let it go away, because I know you would be keeping it going and I’m determined to keep it going in your place. Don’t worry – I know where else to look and I’ll find them, like I usually do. I shudder to think of what the girls would end up with if he was left to shopping for them – I think he’d find a way to use metal hangars to turn his tools into ornaments if it came to it and really, that’s just not okay.
Earlier this year, a longtime, close friend gave me a picture she had found among her photos some years back and told me she had set it aside specifically to give to me when I finally had my own place to call home. It was a picture of you, Dad and I taken around the time of my college graduation. I don’t remember the name of the restaurant we were at, but I do remember your smile and enjoyment, especially of that big (and fresh!) lobster that was your dinner.
I’m a bit far for the walleye that you loved to be on a local menu, but there’s definitely seafood places around me and I plan on enjoying a good dinner from one this long holiday weekend. Not sure if I’ll find a place with good shrimp or if I’ll go for the standard fish and chips, but whatever I decide, I’ll enjoy it with my memories of you.
I miss you and I love you!
Link to last year’s letter: https://marauderswolf.livejournal.com/148688.html