Dear granddaughter,

I have wanted to write to you a million times.  As a matter of fact I have letters I’ve written to you in every drawer and notebook I own.  I have wanted to talk to you so bad.  I didn’t want to overwhelm you.  I think about you all the time and what I’m missing out on by not knowing you.  You are beautiful.  You are a reflection of my son.  I see in your facial expression the same ones my son made.  You look a lot like him and his father’s side of the family.

The reason those letters are sitting in my drawer and not in the mail is the fact that I’m afraid.  I’m afraid you will reject me.  I’m afraid you don’t want to know me.  I’m afraid your mother doesn’t want you to know me.  I’m afraid I will lose my chance to know who you are and see my son’s beautiful daughter.  A part of him.  Your half-sister looks just like her mother but acts and thinks a lot like her father.  Well, and she has a lot of  me too.  We both love to read.  We both have big personalities and sense of humor.  She got a double dose from her Grannie and her father. Books were our thing when she was younger and use to come over to the house. We would go to Barnes & Nobel and have our drinks (chocolate coffee for me and chocolate slushie thing for her) pastries, buy some books ( always do discount section )  and our book club meetings.  Well, it was my writing club but she was there too.  I bought her a writing book with the hard cover and the blank lined pages and she wrote stories and oh yes, I mustn’t forget illustrate them too. lol.  She asked me how to spell words but she wrote it.  Do you like to write stories?  Do you like to read?  Oh well, if not, drinks and pastries sounds good too.  Maybe I could read aloud to you like I did to your sister, although you’re older than she was.  Oh and we both love to talk!  Late into the night.  Wondering what heaven would look like.  If there were crystal mansions that reflect the light to make a prism of colors?    Do you like to talk?  You sounded shy when I met you.  I know it’s hard to talk especially when you don’t know me. I’m not comparing  you to Jessie.  I’m just telling you some of the things we used to do, things I wish I could have done with you.  I think I’m a pretty cool Grannie and we might just have a little bit of fun. 

My son was never shy.  When we went out to eat, he used to use the excuse of going to the bathroom as a way to meet and talk to the other diners on the way to the bathroom.  Social butterfly that he was.  I think your other sister, although not related to him, has a touch of it too.  He was so funny.  He used to have me in stitches.  I’d have to tell him Stop talking, your killing my ribs.  He was a wandering soul, always off on an adventure.  A lot  of those adventures didn’t  turn out well but know he loved you.  He wasn’t able to be a good father and you deserved so much more. I think he was maybe mental ill and on drugs.  Well, I knew he was on drugs.  Drugs were everything to him.  He told me  that he had done things he was ashamed of.  Leaving you was one of those things.



About 1wanderingtruthseeker

I'm a fiftish woman that has opinions and passions about nearly everything under the sun. I love a good debate, not name calling. I believe in the Constitution , the Bill of Rights and God. I believe the government which governs the least is the best government of all. I believe in the rights of the people. I dispatched fire trucks, the Po-Po and ambulances for a long time so I have a wicked sense of dark humor and speak fluent sarcasm. I think out loud a lot times. I am offensive. But I'm offensive of everybody. Socially unacceptable, plain spoken and unashamed. If you don't want to be offend, please don't read and if you do, please consider that I'm not politically correct in any sense of the word.
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