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
I’m guessing you didn’t set out to give me the gift of cozy Christmas memories, but I’m so happy to have them. Right now, they mean more than those plastic toys taking up space in Mom and Dad’s basement — even my Millennium Falcon.
My Christmas Day schedule since basically birth has included waking up too early, seeing what Santa dropped off, and then getting ready to visit you and Pepaw. There were always last-minute gifts to wrap and food to pack for the ride to your house. So, really, there’s not a thought of my Christmas past that doesn’t include you.
And that’s why this is so hard
There will be no last-minute gift-wrapping or that drive “through the woods to grandmother’s house,” like the song. This year, all I have are my memories because we don’t have you.
Without missing a beat, I can imagine pushing back your screen door and stepping into the kitchen. The warmth from your house came on fast — like I’d stepped directly into your oven. Your kitchen always smelled sweet and savory because of all those yummy home-cooked food flavors mingling in the air: turkey, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie. The menu never changed and it didn’t occur to me it should.
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
