Letter to My Dead Gramma

 Dear Gramma,

You would be over 100 right now were you still alive.  111 really.  Wow, that is old!  I remember your telling me that you would sometimes look in the mirror and wonder who on earth that old wrinkly lady was staring back at you.  I sometimes feel the same way now. I peer at myself, not with any sense of disgust, but rather curiosity around this 48-year-old oddity with grey steaks who looks like an older version of myself, but turns out is me.  Turns out aging is a “thing” that does happen eventually no matter how many under eye creams you buy, collagen powders you consume and facials you get.

So much has changed since you died in 2004 (besides my youthful skin and chestnut colored hair.) I’m not sure what you would think of it all now. Remember when I called you on my cell phone from a farmers market in Charleston, South Carolina and we both marveled about how I could reach you from the middle of the outdoors, unattached to a cord inserted into a wall.   

Well, Gramma, everyone uses a cell phone now and they are on them all the time.  I actually think it would bother you.  It bothers me.  People don’t even really call and talk so much as they do something called “texting” where you can write little notes on the keyboard of your phone (yes, phones have mini keyboards now!) and then press “send.” Then that little note somehow flies into the insides of wires we cannot see and makes it onto the screen of someone else’s phone. (Yes, phones have screens now! Like in those old James Bond movies.)  It’s a bit like email but all you need is a “mobile” phone and the dexterity and drive to type in a very small space all day long. I’m not sure you ever dipped into the email world, did you? Phones are a little like mini computers now and even people in small developing countries have one and there are these huge satellites in the sky that emit magical magnetic radioactive energy that is probably going to wind up killing us all but in the meantime, enables me to text someone in Ghana.   

And people have created these online communities and communication tools which you can access on your computer or phone through this platform called “Facebook” where you can find out news about your friends and their activities. It’s a virtual bulletin board where people can post digital photos or ask questions or share good, bad, or neutral news, (like “I just ate this quiche!” or “Anyone know a great dentist?”)  and make funny comments (and sometimes, unfortunately, mean and spiteful comments,) and share videos about the friendship of a cat and an alligator, or news stories.   Unfortunately, Gramma, while it wasn’t meant for this, this “Facebook” thing was overrun a couple years ago by some Russian operatives who used it to spread news that wasn’t true and helped to swing the election and make Donald Trump our president!   Yes, Gramma, I’m sorry to report that Donald President is leading our country in 2018.  I know you were always a fan of people who had financial wherewithal and were smart about business (sorry if I was a little disappointing there) although I’m not sure he was on the list of your approved pecuniary stars because he cheated on his wife, which I’m sure you did not approve of, and was an overall unlikable lunkhead.  (He still is, and he is turning our country into a shit show.  Apologies, I know you never liked me to swear when you were alive and I imagine the same goes for your afterlife.

But this may not be the stuff you want to know about.  Maybe you want to know about me!  How I am doing?  I was just starting to get interested pursuing a career in the field of nutrition when you died, (if only I’d been more informed about this back then, maybe I would have been able to help you live to 101 instead of 97! Sorry to say this, now that you’re dead, but I don’t think you ate enough vegetables.) Now I am a fully-fledged and licensed dietitian living in Seattle!  Yes, Seattle!  Did you ever go there? It is a fantastic place and if you were still alive I would insist that you came out to visit and see Mt Rainier and my little house with a chimney and rosemary bushes. And I finally met someone, named Keith and got married at 42 years old. I think when you were 42 you already had been married for a bunch of years – almost 20? And had two kids.  I just took my time, Gramma, and waited until I was ready and found someone who doesn’t mind that I’m a little messy. And I never had kids nor have I ever wanted to.  I can hear you saying, “But you’d be such a great mom!”  Just like you thought I’d be “such a dynamite banker” when I was in my 20’s pursuing a career in the theatre. But it’s OK. I am happy being child free and only venturing into the bank when necessary.

So, that’s just a little slice of life in nutshell, Gramma.   I often wish you were still here, although you might be disappointed with the way things are going.  Never hesitate to show up in a dream or two so I can feel like we had some time together, but please don’t come hover on the edge of my bed in real life, unless you really want me to join you on the other side. 

Until then, miss you and love you.

Mary