Dear Grandmother

Today you would be 107 years old. It has been a long time since I wrote you a letter. You were such a good letter-writer with beautiful handwriting. Even when you apologized for your handwriting in the last years of your life, it was better than my left-handed writing is now. I remember going to my mail box when I lived in the dorm, reading your letters. You sent me letters no matter where I lived. I miss you and I miss those letters.

 EM and I continue the same, older, but not much different. At least, we don't think we are different. I'm sure photos show something different and AT insists were are different. You would not believe how much AT has changed and how much she has stayed the same. She was just almost four when you passed away. She is now a 13 year old teenager, in every sense of the word. She is beautiful, and strong, just a little taller than you. This week she is at cheer camp, her first camp away from home. She can do a backflip. You would not be surprised at that, but you would laugh aloud. She was always athletic, even as a toddler. She is at the push-pull time of trying to push her parents away, then reaching back for them. It has been painful for me. I am tearing up now as I write this. I have been the most important person in her life since she has been born. No longer. at least she tries to make it seem that way. Now, she is careful not to give me too much attention in public.

 We are still living in the same house. I know you loved my gardening efforts years ago. That all seemed to fade away once we had AT. I diverted all my attentions toward her. Now, that she is growing up and having more responsibilities around the house, I find I have more free time. Your naked ladies still come up around our house. I still have your hostas but they have not flourished in the hot Oklahoma air, like they do in more humid areas. Your pampas grass is doing great. Somehow your deep blue asters have disappeared. I suspect that EM had something to do with that. I plan to get some more someday. Your bridal veil bush bloomed and there was a successful tulip stand this year. I plan to add to the tulips for next year. I have just a few daffodils. I remember the thousands of daffodils you had in the woods lot. We just had a four inch rain yesterday. I'm not as confident a vegetable gardener as you were. Or maybe I'm just not as hard a worker as you.

 You might be disappointed that I do not quilt any more. It surprises me because I thought I would never give it up. But then there was a bouncing girl who would have made me prick my finger or would have landed on the needle or would have yelled for attention every time I moved the quilt onto my lap. And now that I have the time again, I don't have the interest. I still stay very busy in the craft area, mainly when I need to be practical and want to decorate for cheap. I love to paint walls and think of how you liked to paint because it made the room clean. You were so proud of the time you painted every piece of furniture in a bedroom green. Guess my favorite color!

 I think of you often, especially on Sunday mornings in church. Remember when I used to call you on Sunday afternoons and report on AT's behavior grade in church? It always made you laugh. Even at 13, she often gets a "C" for church behavior.

 I still have so many questions to ask you. For all the hours we spent talking, there is much more I need to know. How often did you ride a horse? How often did you go to town when you were a child? Who was the young man in the photo and what was he holding? He wrote a note to you on the back of the photo. Was he a romance or potential romance? I asked you how you met Granddaddy, but was there romance for you before Granddaddy? I'm sure you would have told me all of this and more. You loved to tell your stories. I remember you telling me about the first time you tasted chocolate, the first time you remember being angry. I've been the same way, telling stories with AT (although she's outgrown her need to hear my stories now). She used to beg for them, until I would say, "no more stories!" or "I can't think of any more!" Now, she quickly says "no more stories", herself.

I plan to age as you did. You were so practical. What happened, happened. With each stage, you seemed to adjust and find a way to enjoy that time. You are my model for the future. Happy birthday and I miss you very much...

 Love, Your Granddaughter