They say time heals all wounds. But it’s been more than a year since my grandpa died, and it still hurts just as much as the day it happened. But, thinking about him makes me happy, and I had a very happy moment this weekend at my parents’ house – they’re cleaning out some old things and I found a pile of mail that had been sent to me when I was a freshman at college. In that pile were several letters from my grandpa. They’re the only ones I have – I thought they were gone forever.
The letters are a like big box of handmade chocolates, waiting for me to eat them – I know that they’ll each be so wonderful and I just want to hold off on devouring the whole thing at once.
I put one of the letters in my purse on my way out the door this morning, and just finished reading it. It’s just a typical letter, about what they did that week and a vacation they were planning. It’s short, on plain lined paper, blue ink. His handwriting reminds me of my mom’s. It makes me think of him sitting there at his big wooden desk, full of life, full of love, him thinking about me. I miss him. I miss him so bad.
He signs the letter “Kisses and Hugs and Love, Grandpa.” And then, “PS – Never send money (cash) through the mail. Here is 10 bucks from Grandma.”