“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.