Dear Memaw,
Where do I begin? I know you won’t read this, but with the holidays here I wanted to write anyway. I feel like I owe you an apology. If I’d known the last time I saw you was going to be the last time I saw you, I would’ve hugged you longer. I would’ve thanked you for always taking time out to listen to my stories and being interested in my life — especially during the holidays.
In case you were wondering, all of my holiday memories involve you
As I grew older, I began to look forward to the eating part more than the presents under the tree part
That dinner became the best of Christmas — the whole family sitting around the table together eating and talking.
“You want seconds?” you’d ask, knowing my answer was yes. “Then fix yourself another plate. There’s plenty.” And I did.
I marveled at how you timed all the dishes coming off the stovetop or out of the oven or all at once. I can’t even get my microwave and toaster to sync up so our not-so-home-cooked meals pop out on time. And when you started preparing my favorite dishes just for an evening visit … well, I felt cared for. I thanked you, but I wish I’d let you know how special it really was.
I figured we’d all be back together for the holidays this year
We talked on Christmas Day last about all the Christmases before, and when we said our goodbyes — I didn’t know I’d be saying my final one a few weeks later.
I missed seeing you during your last year because your facility and I were trying to keep you safe during COVID. I wish I could’ve done more to check in on you during lockdown besides texting and a phone call. I hoped life would open up soon, but it wasn’t soon enough.
I want you to know this year will feel empty without your comfort and cooking
But, here’s a surprise — your now 8-year-old great-grandson (GGS, as you call him) and I will be trying to cook some of your recipes. I figured it was one way to keep you close. I just have one question: Can you cook mashed potatoes in the microwave?
All my love,
Your granddaughter
