“This isn’t a baby blanket – it’s called a lap blanket.  Got it out of Mary Maxim. Thought it might be cozy in the fall months for curling up on the sofa…”

This is the last letter I got in the mail from Gram.

It makes me laugh.  My family was so excited about our news; they were buying baby things and here was gram saying, yes, yes, a baby is coming, but this is for you.

Gram had never made me something months in advance and sent in the mail.  It was like she knew – that she wouldn’t be around in the fall.  Gram passed away in August (3 months before Tate was born).

I don’t keep this letter with the others.  It stays in my jewelry box.  Two photo boxes are filled with the rest.

I kept every letter and card she sent me.  I don’t know why I did.

I have letters from when I was in high school; notes from Gram saying that she looked forward to our Christmas Music Concert.  I have letters from university, when she would send care packages every month.  I have letters from when I got my first teaching job and was living in a bachelor basement apartment with very little furniture.  Letters when I moved, when Eric and I got engaged, married, bought our first house, were expecting our first baby.  Through her letters, Gram was there through it all.

It still feels like she is.