As you have read, I took care of Gram for five years before she passed away on February 24, 2021. I have been receiving grief therapy through Hope Hospice since then, and it has been very beneficial to have someone to talk to, not only about Gram but about my sister and dad plus just everyday life. I continue to struggle with the loss of Sweet Gram. I am not sure if it’s because I was raised Catholic, and I tend to feel the “Catholic Guilt” from putting her into senior living for the last three months of her life and not bringing her home when she broke her hip the second time or what. I know healing takes time and there will always be ups and downs when it comes to grief, but I just feel an overwhelming sense of loss when it comes to Gram.
My therapist sent me a video about letter writing. The video has to do with expressing gratitude and increasing happiness but she says the same benefits apply to grief letter writing. She suggested how writing a letter to Gram may help me.
Therefore, I decided to sit down and write a letter to Gram. It is sooooooo long, but I had 45 years of time to write to her about. For some reason, I felt compelled to share it with you. I won’t share all of it at once but here is the beginning. I will continue to share over the next few weeks.
Dear Gram,
I have been meaning to write a letter to you. And I wish I would have said all of this before you left this Earth, but I am telling you now. Ever since I was a little girl you were there for me. You told me several times you were the one who carried me home from the hospital after I was born. We lived with you for a period of time while dad was away in Korea. Throughout my childhood, you only lived three blocks away from me and worked right up the hill from our house. I remember walking home from school and heading straight to the college to see you and mom at work.
Although you didn’t play sports or jump around with us, you were always there to cheer us on and to cheer Gramps on, too. His life revolved around sports…Sports on TV, coaching sports and watching sports. You always said if you had a penny for every bleacher you sat on you’d be one rich lady, and I agree!! As far as I can remember, you were at every one of my basketball and softball games. Even in college when I received very little playing time, you and Gramps were always there.
As a little kid, all I can remember is how positive you were. You wanted us to succeed and you were always very proud of us. You and Gramps were the kindest, loving, and most generous people I have ever known. I remember you always making room for people at the dinner table or lending people a hand when they needed it. The more people that I meet that knew you, the more I see what an impact you had on our hometown community and the students who ventured into the area.
Although you were the small, quiet one, you were always so strong. I remember you getting sick and going to the hospital ONE TIME before you were in your 90s. You never went to the doctor. You just made yourself a Hot Toddy and moved on. Even as you got older you never wanted to go to the doctor and you always said you were fine. You were so strong, but also stubborn.
While I did my student teaching I had the wonderful opportunity to live with you and Gramps. Mom and Dad were hosting Marja from Finland so you let me move in with you. When I came home late and a little tipsy, you never lectured me. You listened to my stories and told me there were leftovers in the fridge for my midnight snack. You were usually up watching the 11 o’clock news and then some black and white film after while Gramps was asleep on the couch. It seemed late at night was the only time Gramps would let you have the remote control! The rest of the day the television was on some sporting event.
After I graduated from college in December, I moved to California. You supported my move and even lent me money to get me started. It took me years before trying to pay you back, which you didn’t accept, of course, but I tried because I appreciated all that you did for me.
Even though I was in California for just a short six months, you, Gramps, and Marja came out to visit. We drove to L.A. to see the Hollywood sign and the stars of fame on the sidewalk. And yes, we even took in another sporting event and went to see the L.A. Dodgers play.
After my six-month adventure in Cali, I settled in Richmond, Virginia for 16 years. We both traveled up and down the interstates more times than we can count. I came home a lot when Dad was battling cancer and got to spend extra time with you, too. The eight-hour drive seemed like nothing compared to being all the way across the country.
When we started worrying about you and Grandpa driving to Florida by yourselves for your winter stay at your condo, I volunteered for the job. Thankfully I was in a position in the school system where I could take the time off to drive you down after Christmas and then pick you back up around Easter. You were sometimes hesitant about going to Florida but you always ended up having a great time and you knew how much it meant to Gramps so you went. You loved Fort Myers but you also loved being in your home in Pennsylvania.
Driving with you was always an adventure. You would sit beside me in the passenger seat and get out your Rand McNally Road Atlas. You would follow along as we crossed state lines and tell me who lived where along the way. You and grandpa remembered so much about so many people. I honestly don’t know how you kept it straight.
Your positive attitude and the love you shared for those around you are what make me miss you so much. I could never repay all the love and support you both offered to me over the years, but I hope I can express to you how much it (and you) meant to me.
(To be continued…)
If you have lost someone special in your life, maybe you will find the strength to pick up a pen and paper and write them a little note about how much of an impact they had on your life. I know it has helped me.
believe that we lost my 
This past year has been very difficult for me. I am not sure why the loss of Gram has hit me so hard but it has, and I still struggle. Maybe because I feel guilty about putting her into the senior living home for her final 3 months. Maybe because I took care of her for five years. Maybe because she was almost like a child to me and also at times my best friend. Maybe because she was a part of my life for 45 years. I miss her little laugh and her loving smile. I miss her advice, her thoughts, and her funny sayings. She was my partner-in-crime. I miss going to get ice cream with her. I am not sure there is anyone else in the world who loved ice cream as much as she did.
I have a friend who cannot swim. She is afraid of the water but she has put herself out of her comfort zone several times. She enjoys being on the water on a boat and even has a trip planned to spend six days on a catamaran sailing the British Virgin Islands. I am so proud and excited for her. If she wasn’t willing to put herself out there (with a lifejacket of course), she would miss out on the most beautiful waters and sites of the islands. How fun is that?
This time my mother and I took a road trip up to New York. Mom decided this summer to take off her wedding band and engagement ring. It has been nine years since my dad passed and this summer she decided the timing was right. She wanted Gary to make her something special to wear in place of her band. After a couple of hours of deliberating and trying different pieces, mom decided on a beautiful piece that will incorporate all of our family’s birthstones as well as her engagement ring. It is going to be absolutely gorgeous. I cannot wait for her to get it!
their service and commitment to America. Many members of my and my husband’s family (including my dad and both of our grandfathers) were military vets. Both of Gram’s brothers were in the military as well.
that song and sing every word. I think they like it because it says “I smoked my Bronco tires outta that town” and their Pops has a Bronco. They seem to like songs they can relate to. I hope they embrace the meaning of that song and take chances with their “toes hanging off the ledge with nothing to lose”. I hope they take chances and live life to the fullest every day like they are now.
May is a hard month for our family. Nine years ago on May 23, my sister, mom, and I held my dad’s hand as he took his last earthly breath after his nine-year battle with lung cancer. My 
Pastor a sign because it seemed he knew just what I needed to hear. The message was that we are on a journey. The journey isn’t going to be easy and there are going to be challenges. He said God doesn’t call us to do anything he doesn’t think we can handle. Trials are necessary but God promises unconditional love and everlasting life. Jesus gave it all for us so we need to trust that God will give it all to us if we give it all to him. It is hard to think about the promise of Heaven when we are here on Earth just doing what we think is best. Sometimes it’s hard to see past the trials. Sometimes it’s hard not to question why. Sometimes it’s hard not to be envious of a friend who still has their father or their sibling. But I guess we need to believe, and we need to realize life is precious. Make the best of it and appreciate the view.
We all missed Babcia and our traditions of waking her up, helping her into the house, and going to get ice cream. My nephew had great insight and just made my heart melt. We talked a little about Babcia, and he said “Did Babcia like dogs?”, I said, “Yes, she did.” He said then she must be up in Heaven playing with Phoenix. (Phoenix was his Pops dog that passed away a few years ago.) He said, “I bet mom is playing with Phoenix, too.” And, “I am glad they can all be together.” Oh, my sweet baby boy. How precious.
Being Catholic was part of me. My grandparents were in the choir and very involved in the church. They sang for many weddings, holidays, and funerals. My parents were of the belief system that if we missed church and something “bad” happened it was because we missed church. I believed that for a while as well.
Until this past weekend, when I was home. Alone. It was the first time since Gram passed. As soon as I dropped my husband off at the airport, I was in tears. I don’t know why. I guess I just needed a good cry. I had such a mix of feelings. I felt guilty for putting Gram in the home. I felt sad for not taking her out when she broke her hip. I felt joy that she lived such a long, wonderful life. I felt happy that so many people got to meet and know her. I felt envious that she lived such a long and beautiful life. I felt relief that she was no longer in pain. I felt blessed that I was able to spend five wonderful years with her. And I felt lost because I wanted her here. I want to see her sweet face and hear her cute laugh.