An Open Letter To Grandmommy

Disclaimer: If you have any doubts about this blog before or after you read it, just talk to mom. She knows better than anyone that I don't write things that aren't true. I never have. I don't fake cards – I don't flatter - I don't write down words that I don't mean. Face to face or casual conversation may be a different story, but when I sit down with a pen (or keyboard as the case may be) and write to or about someone, I tell the truth.

You have been on my mind a lot this past week and I wanted to write an open letter of sorts to tell you what I have been thinking. To tell everyone what I have been thinking.

First of all, I have to say, you are my Grandmommy so everything is filtered through that lens. I think that makes a difference. Just as I see mom through a "daughter lens" and David through a "wife lens", I see you in a lot of ways from the perspective of a granddaughter, a little girl, a growing teenager. But even now at 37, my perception of you grows and evolves. I see you in a way that only a grandchild can. 

 

 

I am so proud to be your granddaughter. To be in this lineage. To have you as family. I am so proud of who you are and continue to be. You continue to amaze me with your courage. My favorite thing to tell you is that your life is an example of God's provision. He has provided for you, in ways seen and unseen, from childhood to today.

 

I am so excited for this next chapter in your life. I am excited for you and happy for you and sad for you and scared for you.

 

I admit that I don’t know what it’s like to live in a tiny little town in the very same house for 35+ years and go to the same white church just down the road past the school. I don’t know what it’s like to be a major part of life in a small town - from Wednesday night dinners to fish frys and cake auctions to VBSs to clubs and parties.

 

I don’t know what it’s like to leave behind a group of people who have celebrated with you the birth of grandchildren & great-grandchildren, numerous birthdays and holidays over the years. People who have loved you and carried you through the loss of a son and a husband. People you spent Friday night dinners and Sunday mornings with week in and week out. People who have shared “life” with you for almost four decades.

 

I don't know what you are feeling, the good and bad. The easy and the hard.  The exciting and the scary.

 

But I do know what's it's like to have life throw you some curves. I know what it feels like to put stickers on your belongings that you have used and enjoyed and even treasured and watch strangers walk off with them. Selling pieces of your life one by one so you can move to the next place. I know what it feels like to pack up the last of things in your car and drive off teary eyed and sick to your stomach. I do know what it feels like to start over. 

 

I know what it's like to have the excitement and even diversion of moving into a new place ... finding your new favorite restaurant or good clothes shop .... picking out lamps and end tables for your new place. Creating a new space. Spending Sunday afternoons driving and discovering.  Which grocery store is best for you? Which church? Which hair salon? Be brave. Explore. Take each day as an adventure - big or small. You are moving from a small town to a big city, so there is SO MUCH more to go and do and see. Window shopping and garage sales alone can be a Saturday adventure. Find every senior special there is. Go to the giant Barnes and Noble and get lost or better yet, get a library card and check the bulletin board each time you go for new activities. See movies. Take a short trip to a new place. (The further north you go, the more it looks like where you came from.) Have fun.   

 

I also know what it's like on certain days when you look around and miss "home" and the people you spent your days with and the places you used to go and you are so tired of being brave and adventurous and you just want to be back in that comfortable place. Cry. Cry a lot if you need to. It's okay to be sad.  It may happen days after you move, or weeks or months. I've been gone for several years now and I still have those days. You can't stay in that space, but it's okay to go there from time to time.  One great thing is you are moving toward family, but you are leaving people you love and depend on and who depend on you. That's a loss. When I left everyone kept saying "Well, you have David now." And I did. And I was glad. I moved toward him. But that didn't change the fact that there was an empty hole from all the things and people I left. It's okay to grieve that. Be sad.

 

God has provided for you time and time again. It sounds like this new place you are going is going to be fabulous! It couldn't be more perfect for a new chapter. You will be close to your girls and the kids (which I am SO JEALOUS of! ha). You will have new people come around you and love you. New people who will need you. God will open up doors for you that you never saw coming.  You don't know what's coming around the corner, but God does. And He's already provided for you. Rest easy in that.  

 

I am so excited to see your place in October! I am excited for you. I love you.  I am proud of you.