A Life Lost and a Lesson Learned

Grandma,


I haven't seen you in person since, I believe, 1989 or 1990. All you ever really were to me was a voice over the phone. Here's what I do remember, though:


I remember my disappointment whenever a card arrived from you on a holiday with sticks of stale gum instead of money. And I remember being even more disappointed when the gum stopped coming. As a child I couldn't appreciate such a gesture but for several years now I've been planning on doing the same thing when Bry and Lia have kids.


I remember how it seemed like every phone call from you either ended or began with a lecture on cleaning and helping mom around the house. Maybe if I'd been a better daughter when I still lived at home we'd have had more chances to talk of other things.


I remember the toys for us that you lovingly made by hand. They weren't My Little Ponies or a brand new Tamagochi but even as a little girl I knew I wanted to save them for my own kids. 


I remember how years passed without seeing pictures of you and my complete surprise when I did. Mom looks so much like you and, since I know how much I resemble her, I know that someday I'll look just like you, too. 


I'd know your voice in an instant if I heard it calling out, "Kimberly! This is your mother!" over the answering machine again but I'll never hear it again. 


Grandma, I just moved. If I had known I'd never receive another, I wouldn't have thrown out all the cards from you I found littering my living room as we rushed to pack.


Grandma, we never spoke much in this lifetime... perhaps we'll speak more in the next. I'll always miss you.

Practicing to be a Grandma someday.